IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

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m^.r 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


\ 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniquas  et  bibiiographiquas 


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D 


Coloured  covers/ 
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r      I    Covers  damaged/ 


D 


Couverture  endommagio 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurie  et/ou  peiliculia 


r~n    Cover  title  rr  nsing/ 


Lo  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  maps/ 

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Encre  da  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

I      I    Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


n 


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Bound  with  other  material/ 
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Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
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Pages  restaurdes  et/ou  pelliculdes 


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r~n  Includes  supplementary  material/ 

I      I  Only  edition  available/ 


n 


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Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu*  ci-densous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


1 


/ 


12X 


16X 


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26X 


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tails 
;  du 
odifier 
une 
mage 


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TtM  last  recorded  frame  on  each  .nicrofiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — »>  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED ").  or  the  symbol  y  (meaning  "END  "), 
whichever  applies. 


Les  exemptaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimie  sont  filmis  en  commen^ant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
derniire  page  qui  comporte  una  empreinte 
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premiere  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  derniAre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaltra  sur  la 
derniire  image  de  chaque  microfiche,  salon  le 
cas:  le  symbcle  -^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  la 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 


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entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  tha 
method: 


Ltfs  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
filmte  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diff^rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtro 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clich6,  il  est  film6  d  partir 
de  Tangle  sup6rieur  gauche,  de  gauchn  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n^cessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrant  la  mithode. 


rata 

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HANDBOOK 


ov 


PSYCHOLOGY 


BT 


J.    CLARK    MURRAY.    LL.D..    F.R.S.C 

JOHN  FROTHINGHAM  PROFESSOR 

OP 

MINTAL  AND  MORAL  PHILOSOPHY,  M'GILL  COLLEGE,  MONTREAL. 


FIFTH  EDITION 


KOSTON 
DE    WOLFE,    FISKE    &    CQ 

461  AND  365  Washington  Stukkt 


e/^j^/    ,  /i9 


Copyright,  1897 
DbWOLFE,  FISKE  &  CO. 


A II  rights  reserved 


PREFACE  ro  THE  SECOND  EDITION. 


In  the  preface  to  the  first  edition  it  was  explained  that 
this  handbook  is  designed  primarily  to  introduce  stu- 
dents  to  the  science  of  psychology ;  and  to  this  design 
every  other  purpose,  which  the  book  may  serve,  has  been 
made  subordinate.     Psychology  embraces  a  considerable 
body  of  systematised  facts  which  are  beyond  dispute: 
but  there  are  also  some  problems,  still  unsettled,  which 
affect  even  the  fundamental  principles  of  the  science. 
No  fair  exposition  of  the  science  is  possible  without  in- 
dica^ng  the  expositor's  standpoint  in  reference  to  these 
problems ;  but  it  is  not  advisable  to  perplex  the  begmner 
with  a  prefatory  discussion  of  controverted  questions  • 
and  to  the  more  advanced  student,  who  may  honour  the 
book  with  a  perusal,  its  general  standpoint  ought  to  be 
evident  without  preliminary  explanations  » 
^    The  original  object  of  the  book  has  been  always  kept 
m  view  m  the  present  edition.     Numerous  alterations 
have  been  suggested   on   revision ;    but   these,  though 
adding  on  the  whole  a  few  pages  to  the  volume,  are  not 
individually  of  such  importance  as  to  require  specific 
mention.  ^  F^v-in^ 

I  may  observe  that,  had  I  received  Professor  Ladd's 
^W,  cf  Phyuologual  Psychology  i„  time,  I  should 
hav»  referred  to  it  at  p.  r.,  as  the  best  equivalent  in 
Enghsh  for  the  great  German  work  of  Wundt 

J.  CLARK  MURRAY. 
Montreal,  t6lh  Afril,  iSSS. 

1 N21 1  <* 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION. 


f  I.  Definition  of  Psychology, 
I  a.  Method  of  Psychology,   . 


Plug* 
I 


BOOK  r.-GENERAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 
Part  I.— Elements  OF  Mind,       . 

Chapter  I.-General  Natufe  op  Sensation, 
§  I.  The  Sensible  Organism, 
S  2.  Agencies  which  Excite  Sensibility,       . 
§  3-  Classification  of  Sensations,      .  . 

Chapter  II._The  Special  Senses,  . 
§  I.  Taste,  • 

i  2.  Smell,  . 

I  3«  Touch,  - 

i  4*  Hearing, 

§  5«  Sight,   . 

—  •  • 

Chapter  HI.-The  General  Senses, 

8  I.  General  Sensations  connected  with  a  Single  Organ, 
*  *  ^ITm    ^'"'^"°"'  °°'  """''^^d  to  parUcular    ' 


i8 
i8 

21 
29 

33 
33 
37 
41 
48 
56 

62 

64 

70 


viii. 


Contents, 


Part  II.— The  Mental  I  rocesses,  ■ 

Chapter  I.— AssocMrioN,      •  • 

§  I.  Primary  Lawi  of  Suggestion,    • 
i  2.  Secondary  Lews  of  Suggestion, 

Chapter  II.— CoMPA«i30N,     .  . 


•  75 

•  76 

•  n 

•  88 

•  109 


BOOK  II.-Sl  liCIAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 
Introduction, 


~~'*>'">          ,"             ■             •             , 

•    IIS 

RT  L— Cognitions,         -          •          • 

•          •    119 

Chapter  L— Percepi:ion,       •          , 

•          •    121 

§  I.  Perceptions  o)  Taste,    •           • 

•          •    127 

1  2.  Perceptions  o*'  Smell,    •            • 

•       ,  •    133 

§  3.  Perceptions  of  Touch,  -            •            , 

•    139 

§  4.  Perceptions  of  Hearing,            •           , 

.    152 

§  5.  Perceptions  of  Sight,     •           •           , 

•    163 

§  6.  Muscular  Perceptions,  •           «           , 

>          •    188 

Chapter  IL— Generalisation,          •          « 

•          •    191 

§  I.  Abstraction,       •            .            ,            , 

•          -    191 

§  2.  Generalisation  Proper,  -        .    -            • 

•    195 

§  3.  Denomination,  •            >            •            « 

•    202 

Chapter  III.— Reasoning,     • 

•    209 

§  I.  Conception,       •            •            •           • 

•    211 

§  2.  Judgment,          •            •            •           , 

•    213 

§  3.  Reasoning  Proper,        •           •           • 

•    ai7 

Contents. 


Ix. 


Chapter  IV.  —Idealisation,  - 
§  I.  The  Speculative  Ideal,  • 
§  2.  The  Esthetic  Ideal,  • 
§  3.  The  Ethical  Ideal,  • 
i  4-  The  Religious  Ideal,     » 

Chapter  V.— Illusory  Cognitions, 
§  I.  Illusions  in  General,     •  , 

§  2.  Dreaming,         .  ,  , 

§  3'  Hypnotic  States,  • 


Chapter  VI. -General  Nature  of  Knowledge, 
§  I.  Self-consciousness, 
§  2.  Time,    •  -  .  , 

§  3.  Space,  -  •  .  . 

§  4.  Substance,        •  •  , 

§  5*  Cause,  •  • 

« 
Part  n.— Feelings,  • 

Introduction,  •  »  •  . 

§  I.  The  nature  of  pleasure  and  pain, 
§  2.  The  expression  of  the  feelings, 
§  3.  Classification  of  the  feelings,    - 

Chapter  I.— Feelings  of  Sense,       • 

Chapter  II.-Feelings  originating  in  Association. 
8  I.  Feelings  for  external  nature^    •  . 


•  226 

•  228 

•  229 

•  241 

•  244 

•  247 

•  247 
"  256 

•  266 

•  283 
-  287 

•  295 
.  299 

•  304 
'  309 


312 


312 

313 

337 


339 

359 
361 


Contents, 

f  X  Feelings  for  self,  • 

8  3.  Feelings  for  otherii       • 


•  «    366 

•  •370 


Chapter  III.— Feklings  orjginating  in  Coiipari- 

sOiV,  -  •  •  .  ,  •389 

Chapter  IV.— Intellectual  FsiLiNas,       •  .    397 

Chapter  V.— Feelings  oj  Action,    •  •  .    402 


Part  III. — ^Volitions, 


405 


Chapter  I.— T;  t  Genbral  7'Iature  of  Volition,  -  406 

Chapter  II.— The  Motive  Power  of  the  Feelings,  410 

Chapter  III. — ExrriNsioN  op  Voluntary  Control 

ov.sR  Muscles,  Feelings,  and  Thoughts,  419 


CBAPTB&  IV. — Freedom  of  Volition, 

Chapter  V.  — Conclusion'  .  « 


41^ 

431 


PSYCHOLOGY. 


INTRODUCTION. 
(  I — Definition  of  Psychology. 

PSYCHOLOGY*  is  the  name  now  generallv  -     ,   a 

J^      to  the  science  which  ■xv,v^,\JJZ     J     '  '"' 

of  the  mind     Mind  +  i.  =i   '"^^t'^es  the  phenomena 

and.^,W,  »hi,el"  ;j LnltTh  s  h'  ""^  ^'''''  '""' 
to  use,  as  equivalent  to  the  r  ta  „  ''''°'"^.=''">»<"' 
nected  with  the  first  ner^nn^T'  ^^P'^s-ons  con- 

fo™  of  subs,anu::s^x ;  ;r::%f °'^"  ■""'  •"« 

Another  modem  fashion  in  i/lw'Vf  J'''  ""  fe'l 
describe  the  mind  by  the  term  3''  't"^"'^^  '^  '"^ 
world,  when  contrasted  with  mind  or       ,        "'"""' 

durmg  the  .Uteenth  cen.ury    ~1™  "  '""'  Vparenlly 

east.  Freigiusfa  the  earlie  t^'^r  f„    °r^  .";'  R=".tos  ,  al 

j-er«.  ««Ha.m„..,z,.^r;:;^;^^„^«''- 

A  ' 


Psychology. 


\% 


expressive  of  the  first  person  as  the  ncnego  or  noiself, 
while  the  counterpart  of  subject  is  object  In  recent 
times  mental  phenomena  are  frequently  distinguished 
from  physical  by  the  term  psychical,— 2,  term  of  some 
advantage  from  its  being  cognate  with  the  name  of  the 
science. 

The  phenomena  of  the  self  or  mind  are  distinguished 
from  those  of  matter  by  a  very  marked  characteristic. 
Any  material  thing  whether  organic  or  inorganic, 
whether  at  rest  or  in  motion  or  undergoing  any  internal 
change,  is  wholly  unaware  of  its  own  condition.  It  is  not 
so  with  me.  1  may  be  ignorant  of  innumerable  actions 
and  processes  going  on  in  my  own  body  and  in  other 
bodies  ;  but  of  what  I  myself  do  or  suffer  I  must  be 
cognisant,  else  it  could  not  be  said  to  be  done  or  suffered 
by  me.  If  I  feel  a  pleasure  or  a  pain,  I  must  know  that 
1  feel  it;  and  to  deny  my  knowledge  of  the  feeling  would 
be  to  deny  its  existence.  In  like  manner,  when  I  see  or 
hear,  remember  or  imagine,  believe  or  disbelieve,  love 
or  hate,  I  must  know  that  I  do  so.  Now,  this  knowledge 
of  what  is  passing  within  me  is  called  consciousness;  and 
it  forms  the  distinctive  attribute  of  the  mind  or  self. 

To  avoid  misapprehensions,  it  may  be  observed  that 
we  often  speak  of  doing  an  acti  jn  «/zconsciously.  This 
seems  to  contradict  the  assertion  that  consciousness 
characterises  all  the  actions  we  perform.  But  the  truth 
is,  that,  when  we  use  this  expression,  we  mean  that  such 
an  action  is  in  reality  done,  not  by  ourselves,  but  by  those 
noisehes, — those  material  things  which  we  call  our 
muscles,  nerves,  and  brains.  When  a  muscle  twitches, 
or  a  nerve  or  brain-fibre  thrills,  without  the  movement 
being  willed  or  intended  by  me,  it  is  not  I  that  produce 
the  movement.  It  will  be  rhown,  in  fact,  that  nervous 
and    muscular    actions    often    simulate    strikingly   the 


Introduction.  , 

appearance  of  being  originated  and  controlled  intelligeiul  v 
by  me,  when,  in  reality,  they  are  immediately  due  to 
habits  of  body  formed  long  before  by  myself,  or  perhaps 
by  my  ancestors,  or  by  the  general  constitution  of  nature. 
iJut  an  action,  of  which  we  are  wholly  unconscious,  is 
one  with  which  we  have  truly  nothing  to  do,  and  that  is 
the  reason  why  we  often  exculpate  ourselves  by  pleading 
that  we  acted  unconsciously,  inasmuch  as  the  action 
could  not  then  really  have  proceeded  from  us. 

It  follows  from  this,  tliat,  in  speaking  of  the  mind,  we 
must  avoid  supposing  it  to  be  the  brain  or  the  heart  or 
any  c:her  portion  of  the  material  thing  we  call  our  body. 
We  sometimes,  indeed,  by  a  figure  of  speech,  use  brain 
and  heart  to  mean  mind  or  soul ;  and  the  figure  is 
allowable,  so  far  as  the  inexact  requirements  of  ordinary 
language  are  concerned.  But,  in  scientific  accuracy, 
"  I  "  am  not  a  brain,  or  heart,  or  system  of  nerves,  or 
any  part  or  the  whole  of  a  body. 

It  appears,  then,  that  the  distinctive  characteristic  of 
mind   is,   to    be    conscious    of    its   phenomena;    and, 
consequently,  these  phenomena  are  often  described  as 
phenomena   of  consciousness.      Like    the   phenomena 
of  external  nature,  those  of  our  internal  consciousness 
will  commonly  be  found  to  be  composite,  and  therefore 
to  require  analysis.     In  order  to  such  an  analysis,  it  is 
necessary  to  know  the  elementary  materials  which  enter 
into  the  composition  of  the  phenomena  analysed  ;  and 
accordingly  the  description  of  these  materials  will  form 
the  subject  of  the  First  Book  of  this  work,  which,  as 
applying  to  all  the  phenomena  of  mind  in  general,  may 
be    appropriately    styled    General     Psychology.      The 
Second  Book,  to  be  distinguished  as  Special  Psychology, 
will  investigate  the  various  combinations  which  form  the' 
special  phases  of  our  mentallife. 


4  Psychology. 

Before  proceeding  to  these  subjects,  some  further 
introductory  remarks  may  be  found  of  service  in 
reference  to  the  method  which  should  be  adopted  in  the 
study  of  our  science. 


§  a. — Method  of  Psychology^ 


I 

m 


The  method  of  Psychology  is  determined  by  the 
nature  of  the  phenomena  which  it  investigates.  The 
nature  of  these  phenomena,  as  we  have  seen,  is  that 
they  are  always  accompanied  by  consciousness  on  the 
part  of  their  subject.  It  is  consequently  by  means  of 
this  accompanying  consciousness,  directed  by  proper 
precautions,  that  we  must  investigate  the  mind.  The 
proper  precautions,  indeed,  must  not  be  neglected  in 
studying  the  phenomena  of  mind  any  more  than  in 
observing  the  phenomena  of  the  material  worM ;  for  it 
cannot  be  supposed  that  the  ordinary  consciousness  of 
men  will  give  them  a  scientific  knowledge  of  what  is  pas- 
sing in  their  minds  more  readily  than  their  ordinary 
perceptions  reveal  the  physical  facts  disclosed  to  the 
scientific  observer.  The  precautions  which  the  psycho- 
logist must  adopt  in  order  to  direct  and  correct  his 
observations,  are  not  essentially  different  from  those 
which  must  be  tak  jn  by  other  scientific  observers ;  they 
are  rendered  only  more  necessary  inasmuch  as  nearly  all 
the  difficulties  in  the  way  of  accurate  observation  are 
greatly  enhanced  by  the  peculiar  character,  especially  by 
the  extreme  evanescence  and  complexity,  of  mental 
phenomena. 

One  of  the  most  valuable  safeguards  against  mistakes  in 
observation  is  found  by  vaiying  the  circumstances  in 
which  phenomena  are  observed.    Now  this  safeguard  is 


Introduction, 


5 


readily  supplied  to  the  psychological  observer  by  refusing 
to  satisfy  himself  with  the  mere  introspection  of  his  indi- 
vidual  mind,  and  endeavouring  to  watch  the   mental 
operations  of  others,  as  far  as  these  are  expressed  in  their 
language  and  external  conduct.     The  study  of  psycho, 
logy,  by  reflection  on  one's  own  conscious  life,  is  some- 
times spoken  of  as  the    Introspective  or    Subjective 
Method,  by  observations  on  the  minds  of  others,  as  the 
Objective  Method.     Though  some  schools  reject  or  un- 
duly depreciate  the  former,  it  is  evident  that  both  methods 
must  be  combined ;  for  objective  observations  can  be  in- 
terpreted only  by  reference  to  the  facts  of  our  own 
consciousness.*    In  such  observations  it  is  important  to 
seek  the  assistance  of  those  studies  which  have  for  their 
object  to  inquire  into  the  phenomena  of  human  life  that 
reflect  the  mental  conuition  of  men  under  every  variety 
of  external  circumstances.     The  facts  which  reflect  the 
mental  life  of  man  may  do  so  either  as  being  its  product, 
or  in  so  far  as  it  is  theirs.    These  it  may  be  convenient  to 
consider  apart. 

I.  Of  the  phenomena  which  result  from  the  action  of 
the  human  mind,  most  have  been  already  reduced  to 
orderly  study  in  separate  sciences. 

I.  The  main  instrument  which  man  employs  for  the 
expression  of  his  conscious  states  is  language,  and  there- 


*  Objective  observations  may  sometimeB  usefully  be  extended  to 
the  nental  life  of  the  lower  animals,  which  may  occasionally  throw 
light  on  the  lower  activities,  at  least,  of  the  human  mind;  but  the 
interpretation  of  the  actions  of  animals,  as  implying  facts  similar  to 
those  of  our  consciousness,  cannot  be  accompanied  with  too  great 
caution.  For  the  student  who  wishes  to  follow  out  this  line  of  in- 
quiry, probably  the  most  serviceable  aids  are  the  two  works  by  Dr. 
G.  J.  Romanes  on  Animal  iHitUigenc*  and  Mental  Evolution  i 
AnittutlM. 


Psychology, 


fore  the  Science  of  Language  will  be  found  of  continual 
service  to  the  psychologist ;  for  whether  in  the  wide  re- 
searches of  comparative  philology,  or  in  the  etymology  of 
isolated  words,  the  speech  of  men  often  reveals  the 
history  of  ideas  and  feelings  and  mental  habitudes,  which 
could  not  otherwise  be  traced  with  so  sure  a  step. 

2.  The  origin  of  language  is  hidden  in  the  trackless 
distance  of  a  prehistoric  past ;  so  also  is  the  origin  of 
society  and  of  the  system  of  life  which  society  entails. 
But  the  actual  condition  of  society,  both  in  our  own  day 
and  throughout  historical  periods,  is  within  our  reach ; 
and  there  are  few  more  fascinating  branches  of  study  than 
that  which  investigates  the  picturesque  varieties  of  moral 
standard,  of  social  custom,  of  political  institutions,  by 
which  human  life  is  diversified  under  different  climates 
and  at  different  stages  of  civilisation.  The  accumulation 
of  evidence  on  these  subjects,  especially  in  recent  times, 
throws  occasionally  a  welcome  light,  if  nc  t  on  the  origin, 
at  least  on  the  development  of  many  feelings  and  ideas 
and  convictions,  which  play  an  important  part  in  the 
human  consciousness.  The  collection  and  preservation 
of  accurate  statistics  with  regard  to  the  existing  pheno- 
mena and  the  current  changes  of  society,  are  becoming  a 
serious  work  among  all  civilized  nations  j  and  the  facts 
thus  obtained  may  often  be  consulted  for  evidence  of  the 
operation  of  great  mental  laws. 

3.  The  studies,  which  have  just  been  indicated,  belong 
to  what  older  writers,  with  some  propriety,  were  wOnt  to 
describe  as  the  Natural  History  of  Man.  But  the  civil 
or  political  history  of  man, — what  we  understand  by 
history  simply,  including,  of  course,  biography,  which  is 
but  the  history  of  individuals — is  not  without  its  value  to 
the  psychologist,  as  revealing  the  mental  influences  by 
which  human  life  receives  its  determinate  character  in  any 


f 


Tntrodttction,  • 

particular  country  at  any  particular  time,  as  well  as  its 
development  from  age  to  age.    In  fact,  the  Philosophy  of 
History  must  seek  to  bring  the  periods  in  the  evolution 
of  a  nation,  or  in  the  vaster  evolution  of  the  human  race, 
into  harmony  with  the  universal  laws  of  the  human  mind. 
4.  But  the  phenomena,  which  most  directly  reflect  the 
mental  hfe  of  man,  are  the  product  of  his  mind  in  science 
and  art.     Science  is  evidently  the  systematic  effort  of 
human  mtelligence  to  unfold  the  intelligible  order  that 
exists  throughout  every  realm  of  the  universe ;  and  the 
evolution  of  scientific  ideas  must  be  an  exponent  of  the 
laws  which  govern  the  evolution  of  man's  general  intelli- 
gence.     In  science  the  cool  intellect  alone  is  called  into 
play;  mart  the  intellectual  life  is  warmed  with  feeling. 
The  fine  arts,   therefore,   represent  a  double  aspect  of 
man  s  mental  nature,-his  power  of  knowing  and  his 
power  of  feeling.     Accordingly  the  critical  study  of  the 
fine  arts.— of  sculpture  and  painting,  of  music  and  litera- 
iure,-will  be  found  extremely  serviceable  in  assisting  to 
unravel  some  of  the  most  complicated  operations  of  the 
mind. 

II.  But  the  mind  is  not  only  a  producer,  it  is  also  a 
product.  It  is  true  that  the  function  of  the  mind  is,  by 
becoming  conscious  of  the  forces  of  nature,  to  free  man 
from  subjection  to  their  unqualified  sway.  Still  whatever 
freedom  from  the  mere  force  of  nature  the  mind  may 
reach,  there  is  another  aspect  in  wnich  it  remains  a  natural 
product ;  and  in  this  aspect  it  receives  an  explanation  in 
the  agency  of  those  natural  forces  by  which  it  is  modifit  d 

I.  Here  the  vast  cosmic  forces  of  the  solar  system 
may  be  practically  left  out  of  account,  as  their  influence 
on  the  human  mind  is  of  an  extremely  remote  and 
md.rect  character.  The  changes  of  summer  and  winter, 
of  day  and  night,  of  morning  and  eve 


-©7 


'^o    ua     biic 


8 


Psychology. 


I        i 


varying  phases  of  the  moon,  do  exercise  an  appreciable 
influence  over  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  men.  Bui 
the  influence  of  these  agencies  in  human  life  is  not  the 
irresistible  domination  of  a  natural  force,  such  as  they 
exert  over  vegetation,  or  over  the  life  of  migratory  or 
hibernating  animals ;  it  is  an  influence  which,  in  normal 
health,  is  completely  under  the  control  of  intelligent 
volition,  and  grows  tyrannical  only  when  by  disease  life 
becomes  helplessly  subject  to  external  nature.*  It  is  true 
that  the  grandeur  and  mystery  of  the  great  cosmic  move- 
ments have,  in  earlier  times,  exercised  such  a  fascination 
over  the  human  mind  as  to  gain  the  credit  of  a  direct 
influence  on  human  life,  the  systematic  mterpretation  of 
which  formed  the  exploded  science  of  astrology.  But 
the  general  advance  of  human  thought  to  the  modern 
scientific  point  of  view,  is  strikingly  indicated  when  we 
contrast  an  antique  astrological  calculation  on  the  effect 
of  a  man's  "star"  with  the  causal  connection  which 
recent  observations  have  endeavoured  to  establish 
between  the  sun's  spots  and  the  social  disasters  which 
follow  a  famine. 

2.  Only  less  remote  than  the  influences  just  described 
are  those  which  have  their  origin  in  terrestrial  nature,— 
the  influences  of  a  geographical,  climatic,  and  meteoro- 
logical character.  Climate  and  geographical  features 
have  an  undoubted  power  to  mould  the  thoughts  and 
feelings  of  men ;  but  their  eHfects  in  the  history  of  the 
human  mind  have  often  been  exaggerated  by  forgetting 
^r  underestimating  the  energy  of  intelligence  in  asserting 


•  The  belief  at  least  in  the  tyranny  of  the  moon  over  the  diseased 
mind  is  preserved  in  the  Latin  lunaticus,  the  Greek  ceXw^aKbi,  our 
English  ntoonstruck,  at  well  as  the  older  expressions,  moonish  and 
moonling. 


TntroductiGH.  g 

itself  over  the  force  of  its  environment.  Soil  and  climate 
and  weather  determine  absolutely  the  life  of  animal  and 
plant;  but  man  succumbs  to  their  influence  only  in 
proportion  as  disease  reduces  him  to  the  condition  of  a 
mere  animal  organism,  and  thereby  renders  impossible 
the  mdependent  play  of  intelligence. 

3.  But  in  what  is  appropriately  called  human  nature 
we  come  upon  a  region  of  the  natural  forces,  which 
necessarily  have  a  very  direct  influence  in  modifying  the 
mental  life  of  man.  Among  the  powers  of  human  na- 
ture some  may  be  distinguished  as  universal  from  others 
which  are  particular, 

i.  By  the  former  are  meant  of  course  those  powers 
which  are  common  to  the  whole  of  mankind.     Now 
some  of  these  are  extrinsic  to  the  individual. 

(a)  The  modifying  influences  here  characterised  as  ex- 
tnnsic  to  the  individual  are  the  race  to  which  he  belongs 
and  those  general  tendencies  of  his  time  which  are  some- 
times spoken  of  as  the  Zeitgeist  or  spirit  of  the  age.    Amid 
the  innumerable  varieties  by  which   human   beings  are 
distinguished,  there  are  certain  prevailing  types,  along 
which  these  varieties  are  ranged  ;  and  such  predominant 
types  of  variation  may  be  traced  in  the  mental  as  well  as 
m  the  bodily  characteristics.     A  type  of  this  kind  may 
often  be  referred  to  the  common  origin  of  the  individuals 
m  whom  It  predominates,  and  it  then  constitutes  what 
we  understand  by  a  diff-erence  of  race.     It  would  be  out 
of  place,  at  this  introductory  stage,  to  discuss  the  explan- 
ation of  race  differences  which  may  seem  to  be  demanded 
by  the  present  state  of  the  science  of  man.     It  is  suffi- 
cient to  recognise  the  fact  of  the  power  which  such 

fer  o7rr  "'      "f"'"^  '"  '^"^ '"  ^^^P^"g  ^he  charac- 
ter of  a  man  s  mmd.     But  the  influence  of  race  is  apt  to 

be  traversed  by  the  influence  of  those  mental  tendencies 


10 


Psychotogy. 


*that  are  characteristic  of  the  period  in  which  a  man's  life 
is  pr.ssed.  And  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  both  in- 
fluences are  qualified  by  the  principle  already  noticed, 
that  the  mind,  being  essentially  intelligent  of  the  forces 
of  nature,  may  rise  above  their  unconditional  sway,  and 
direct  their  operation. 

{b)  But  this  qualification  is  of  less  value  when  we 
come  to  those  influences  of  human  nature  which  are  in- 
trinsic to  the  individual.  These  are  two  :  one  being  of  a 
permanent  character— sex ;  another,  of  a  mutable  char- 
acter—age. Even  these  agencies,  however,  are  not  ab- 
solutely irresistible  in  their  effects.  The  freedom  of  the 
mind  from  the  tyrannous  sway  of  sex  is  seen  in  the 
manly  courage  which  emergencies  have  sometimes  called 
forth  in  women,  and  in  the  womanly  tenderness  often 
displayed  by  stern  men.  Such  freedom  may  occasionally 
reach  an  extreme  of  excess  ;  a  person  may  become  "  un- 
sexed,"  though  this  cannot  happen  without  a  violation  of 
human  nature.  Effeminacy  in  man,  or  masculine  bold- 
ness in  woman,  are  both  unnatural  monstrosities.  In 
like  manner  the  natural  tendencies  of  age  are  also  some- 
times counteracted  ;  youth  occasionally  displays  a  scber 
thoughtfulness  more  characteristic  of  advanced  life,  while 
a  happy  juvenility  of  spirit  is  not  infrequently  carried 
down  into  a  hale  old  age. 

ii.  But,  besides  the  universal  influences  of  race  and 
sex  and  age,  the  human  mind  is  subject  to  other  influences 
that  are  particular,  as  theyform  the  distinctive  peculiarities 
of  individuals. 

{a)  Sometimes  these  peculiarities  are  acquired  in  the 
course  of  the  individual's  life,  and  then  they  constitute 
his  habits  or  character.  Habit  has  been  well  named  a 
second  nature,  for  it  acts  in  the  same  way  as  anv 
tendency  in  the  original  nature  of  man.      As  habit  is 


i 


Introduction.  j  | 

acquired,  so  it  can  also  be  overcome,  or  supplanted  by  an 
opposite  tendency.  In  fact,  all  hope  of  intellectual  and 
moral  improvement   rests  on   the  power  of  reforming 

{b)  But  there  is  a  less  variable  sphere  of  human  nature 
-that  of  the  tendencies  which  are  born  in  the  individual. 
1  hese  form  what  we  express  by  the  French  naturei  in  ihe 
Jargest  sense  of  the  term,  comprehending  all  that  is 
commonly  understood  by  genius  in  the  intellectual  sphere 
and  in  the  emotional  by  temperament  or  disposition. 

The  contact  of  man  with  the  general  system  of  forces 
m  h,s  own,  as  well  as  in  external  nature,  depends  on  the 
tact  that,  m  one  aspect,  he  is  an  animal  organism      The 
part  of  this  organism,  by  which  his  conscious  relations 
with  nature  are  governed,  is  the  system  of  nerves  dig. 
tnbuted  throughout  his  body  and  centred  in  his  brain 
Accordingly,  among  the  auxiliary  studies,  to  which  the 
psychologist  resorts,  the  highest  value  must  be  attached 
to  human  anatomy  and  physiology,  in  so  far  as  these  ex- 
plain the  structure  and  functions  of  the  different  parts  of 
he  nervous  system.     It  must  not,  indeed,  be  supposed, 
a   has  been  too  hastily  assumed  by  some,  that  the  physi- 

with  that  direct  observation  of  consciousness,   which 
IS    the    special   province    of   psychology.       For    even 
If  the  system   of  nerves  in    the    human    body    were 
known     much      more      perfectly    than     at    present 
no    observation    of    it    could    ever    reveal    anything 
but  material  structures  and  processes;  no  such  ob'serva 
tion  could  ever  reveal  the"  thoughts  and  feelings  and 
volitions  which  make  up  our  conscious  life,  or  the  laws 
by  which  these  are  gove.ued.     Still,  it  would  be  .2 
unfortunate  for  the  psychologist,   were  he  unduly  to 
deprecate  the  assistance  which  he  mnv  r....v.  ...  J.u 


la 


Psychology 


III 

i 

III! 


physiologist.    It  may  now  be  accepted  as  a  fact,  that 
with  every  phenomenon  of  consciousness  a  correspond- 
ing phenomenon  is  set  up  in  the  nervous  system  ;  and  it 
will  often  be  found  that  a  knowledge  of  the  nervous 
action  is  the  most  trustworthy  guide  to  a  psychological 
explanation  of  the  phenomenon  in  consciousness,  or  the 
most  efficient  safeguard  against  mistakes  about  its  nature. 
The  student  of  psychology  will,  therefore,  be  materially 
assisted   by   seeking  at    least   such   acquaintance   with 
physiology  as  may  be  obtained  from  Professor  Huxley's 
Lessons  in  Elementary  Physiology,  or  from  works  which 
treat  especially  of  the  physiology  of  the  nervous  system 
in   its   bearing  on    psychology,    like    Dr.    Carpenter's 
Principles  0/  Mental  Physiology  or  the  more  elaborate 
Grundziige  der  Physiologischen   Psychologic  of  Wundt. 
For  the  treatment  of  psychological   questions   in   their 
connection  with  the  evolutionism  of  the  present  day,  the 
student  should  consult  Spencer's  Principles  of  Psychology, 
which  will  be  found  of  great  value  in  other  aspects  as 
well. 

Most  of  the  other  studies,  which  have  been  referred  to 
in  this  section  as  tributary  to  psychology,  are  compre- 
hended under  anthropology  in  the  widest  conception  of 
its  range.  The  student,  who  is  not  familiar  with  the 
researches  of  this  science,  will  fiud  an  interesting  account 
of  their  drift,  and  an  admirable  preparation  for  more 
detailed  study,  in  the  Introduction  to  Anthropology^  by 
Dr.  E.  B.  I'ylor. 


that 
)ond- 
nd  it 
voiis 
gical 
r  the 
ture. 
•ially 
with 
ley's 
hich 
stem 
ter's 
)rate 
ndt. 
;heir 

the 

;s  as 


BOOK  I, 


dto 

pre- 
n  of 
the 
uni 
lore 


IJ! 


GENERAL  PSYCHOLOGY. 


'am  simple  factors,  which  may  bT '1,^  ."' '"• 
-nents  of  our  mental  life,  and  that  T^f  k'  "l"  "'• 
■hese  ele.„ents  is  due  'o  rertlTn  •  T^'"'"°"  »' 
Accordingly  this  Book  di'vMes  S  '2'^,  P™^"'«-^ 
Parts,  devoted  respectiveL  to  hi  ,  ^^  ^  '""'  "^° 
l>roce«esofment«nif6      '    °  "*  ***"«""  "■«'  the 


!i!i! 


Tlu  Elements  of  Mind. 


17 


PART    I. 


THE  ELEMENTS  OF  MIND. 

P  LEMENTS  are  phenomena  which  are  incapable 
■L^     of   being  decomposed ;   and   therefore  the   ele- 
ments of  mental  hfe  are   .hose  simple   facts,  beyoTd 
whtch   scence.     „   i,s   last   analysis   of    consc  ousness 
has     been    unable    to    go.      Such     elementary    fac, 
form  merely  what  may  be  called  the  raw  materials  o 
mind;    they  are   wrought    into    actual    mental   states 
only  as   they   are  combined   by   the    processe     S 
W.11  be  afterwards  explained.     These  raw  materials  of 
mmd  are  connected  by  natural  law  with  the  great  system 
of  natural  phenomena;  and  the  drift  of  the  pre  em    ™ 
vesttgatton  must  be  to  trace  that  connection.     In  doing 
so  we  shall  describe  first  the  general  nature  of  the  men^ 
elements,  and  then  their  specific  forms. 


i8 


Psychology, 


CHAPTER  L 


THE  GENERAL  NATURE  OF  SENSATION. 

THE  natural  elements,  of  which  conscious  life 
is  formed,  are  the  phenomena  called  sensa 
iions.*  A  sensation  is  any  consciousness  arising  from 
an  action  in  the  bodily  organism.  The  organism, 
considered  as  endowed  with  the  capacity  of  exciting 
consciousness,  is  said  to  be  sensitive  or  sensible.  The 
general  capacity  is  spoken  of  as  sensibility,  and  the 
particular  forms  of  the  sensibility  are  called  senses. 
As  sensation  depends  on  the  action  of  the  bodily 
organism,  it  may  be  well,  before  examining  the  nature 
of  sensation  itself,  to  consider  the  structure  of  the 
organism,  and  the  agencies  by  which  its  sensibility  is 
excited. 


f  I. — The  Sensible  Organism, 

All  bodies  act  and  react  on  each  other.  Even  the 
mineral  is  subject,  not  only  to  the  mechanical  impulse  of 
bodies  impinging  on  it,  but  occasionally  also  to  chemical 


•  On  the  various  meanings  of  the  term  sensation  see  Hamilton's 
edition  of  Reid's  Works,  p.  Z-jt,  note.  A  history  of  theories  in 
regard  to  sensation  will  be  found  in  the  same  work,  Note  D,  §  i. 


T>^  (^enerc- Nature  of  SensatioH.  ,9 

the  power  of  r^cn^^^;       •  .        *^^peciaiiy,  possess 

It  is  sometimes  said  that  the  bnin   ,'=  fU 
."ind.      le  would  be  more  connect  osata^  T'""  °.' 
finds  an  orsan    thaf  ic    .      •  ^   ^'  ""^  """d 

of.hea„cie„.do;.H„e;:Lr.".arot;;trr 

soul  .0  one  pa.  of  .he  body,  finds  it  "  a„  in  ZZV^ 
all  m  every  part."      For  the  whole  organism  is  in  .' 
part,  adapted  to  furnish  -iiaterials  for  fh.  h    /^  '' 

-an-s  mental  structure;  but  owt  h' '^",'''''"«  "P  °' 
.He  elaborate  system  of  'nervl:  wrw'ht^'r';;;: 
more  or  less  completely  sunnlied      Tf,.  "^ 

of  man  is  two-fold  :  it  consis  s  of.  ™"'  '^^'"'" 

distinguished  as  th    ceZpina  Tnd'tr""'  "'""  "" 
■'■he  latter,  by  its  distribut  on  Tonrle  ^^^"'P^''^^''<^ 
.0  be  connected  with  the  functtoTsTf       a  1:^  r^^ 
h.nw,th  those  of  the  mind,  though  some  hold  U  T^ 
the  specal  organ  of  the  emotional  nature 

vasnv'J''''''"""''"''  '^"''"'   "•"^h  <^««''i">y  shows  a 
vastly  more  mtimate  and  comnl.V^fo^ 

™.nd,    is   divisible   into    two   p     s      aTTT:'" 
perinher'il      TJ,^  ,  P^'^tSj—a   central    and   a 

^dsScoi;:^rrr:;.i^;°li!,'°-d.-  'he  brain 


-^  IS  distinguishable  to  the  eye  by  iu 


mf^ 


20 


Psychology, 


greyish  colour,  and  appears  under  the  microscope  to  be 
formed  by  masses  of  minute  vesicles  or  cells.  The  other 
portion,  which  connects  the  centres  with  the  extremities, 
as  well  as  the  different  centres  with  each  other,  is  white 
in  colour.  It  consists  of  strands  of  fibres,  distributing 
themselves  in  ever  minuter  ramifications  to  every  part  of 
the  organism.  Among  these  fibres  two  groups  may  be 
distinguished  as  possessing  distinct  functions.  One 
group,  which  issue  from  each  side  of  the  front  of  the 
si)ine,  carry  impulses  from  the  centre  outwards,  and 
thereby  stimulate  muscular  moveaient ;  the  other  group, 
which  issue  from  the  back  of  the  spine,  transmit  impulses 
inwards,  and  excite  sensation.  The  nerves  of  sensation 
are,  therefore,  called  afferent  or  cetitripetal ;  those  of 
motion,  effcirent  or  centrifugal.  The  body  is  thus  seen 
to  be  the  organ  of  the  soul,  not  merely  as  the  passive 
recipient  of  sensations  excited  by  the  action  of  external 
bodies,  but  as  a  source  of  energy  by  which  it  reacts  on 
these  and  jiroduces  modifications  in  them. 

The  afferent  nerves,  which  are  thus  distributed  over 
the  body,  are  perpetually  carrying  to  the  .spinal  cord 
and  brain  the  impressions  which  have  been  excited  in  the 
various  organs;  and  these  organs  become  thus  the 
channels  of  different  sensations.  It  is  a  moot  point 
among  physiologists,  whether  the  specific  difierences 
of  sensation  are  due  to  different  nerves  being  endowed 
with  different  specific  properties,  or  whether  all  nerves 
are  identical  in  property,  and  become  differentiated  to 
different  functions  merely  in  consequence  of  the  different 
uses  to  which  they  are  put.  This  question,  however,  is 
of  no  essential  moment  to  the  psychologist ;  for  him  it  is 
sufficient,  that  specifically  difi*erent  sensations  are 
awakened  by  the  various  alterations  to  which  the  different 
organs  of  the  body  are  subject.     But  of  course  it  is 


TUe  General  Nature  of  Sensation.  j, 

fibres.  a/dthe:et  ::*,?'  """^"'  ""- 
train.     All  the  oman.  o/  hlh^   ~""^"'™  -"h  the 

sensitive ;  but  in  resne/,  ^  k  ^^  "''  "'"'  ""'•^  »  '"s 
dis,inctio'n  ^a/be  d  aTn  b°e  '  ^'"''""^  ="  '"-''^d 
-'  of  organs  a'e  evidemK-  bv  r"  '""^  '""""•  ^°'  <"- 
-inly  to  the  specia  tnelT:!*""""^'^'"^'' 
and  these  are  accordingly  sTid  to  h'^!^"""*  '™='''°"' 
^A««/ ..««,.  while  tlfe'oth  r  Trga  3'  ^  t^ ^  ^  '"^ 
nse  to  sensation  only  incidentallv    !  .        ''^  ^ive 

various  functions  of  ani„,an  "to  which  I'l'   "™"""    '"^ 
t.vely  adapted.     But  this  is  TZ  "'  "■'  '"P'^'^" 

conveniently  explained        y'„„t"trt,  "f  ""  "* 
*i-^  chapter,  in  the  description  of  th.  '"  '"'""  °' 

we  receive  through  the  diCem  organs.     ""  """'""^ 

S  2— ^,"-«a«  «,/„V^  ^^„y.  Sensibility 

deXSvZ^S:^:';^"^ '"-sequence  of  its 

.0  .he  action  of  the  .Hou's  rrLTo;:  T'  "''""'''^ 
forces  n,ay  accordingly  be  s^oke/f  "''  ""^  ""^^^ 
agencies  which  excite  se^,!  r  '"  general  as  the 

•"ese  forces  is  c^^T'  ''°"'  '"^  '«-"  <" 
"•betl,er  it  be  .he  n.^^ro,  Z^Z  'Zl  "'  "'°"°"' 
•""ong   the   particles  of  which  ^'■'  "^  "">"■<"' 

Consequently,  the  imn.ediat     t  ^riV"  '"'."'^'''■ 
'n  every  case,  be  re„resented  =  ,       ''"^^'""i  ma)-, 

'he  ,nove,„e'nt  ma    o  ,^  1^™,?  "'"''. "^ '"--ent. 
'"  the  higher  organisn'sare  1         I'"'""  "'''''  '°' 
"■">■  '.y  innun,erable  poces  es  wh    h"     "'  '"'^'^P'''' 
alterations  o(  nervous  ttueh'  '"'  '°  P™""™ 

J"  oth«  cases,  and  1  e  "ar^   t','  ""'  ^""^  ^^"^"""'X' 

'  "-"CSC  aie  nijie  nunie»-rj.—   fi 

ic.ouo,  tuc  move* 


aa 


Psychology. 


i 


I 


iiii 


ment  originates  in  extraorganic  bodies ;  but  it  must  always 
be  translated  into  a  nervous  process  before  it  can  produce 
sensation. 

Sensations  are  of  innumerably  various  kinds  ;  they  vary 
in  accordance  with  the  variation  of  the  natural  move- 
ments by  which  they  are  produced,  and  the  part  of  the 
organism  affected.      There  is,   however,  one  difference 
among  sensations,  which  traverses  all  others,  and  may 
therefore  be  noticed  first.     This  is  the  intensity,  that  is, 
the  degree  in  which  a  sensation  absorbs  consciousness. 
This  property  has  a  natural   correspondence   with  the 
breadth  or  amplitude  of  the  movement  by  which  the 
sensation  is  produced,  and  by  the  breadth  or  amplitude 
of  a  movement  is  meant  the  space  through  which  the 
moving  body  travels  from  the  point  of  rest  or  equilib- 
rium.     It  is  true,  as  will  be  shown  more  fully  in  the 
sequel,   the  degree,  in  which  a  sensation  absorbs  con- 
sciousness, depends  also  on  the  voluntary  strain  of  atten- 
tion, however  that  is  to  be  explained;  but  still  the  natural 
tendency  of  any  movement,  which  comes  into  contact 
with  our  organism,  is  to  obtrude  itself  into  consciousness 
with  increasing  force  in  proportion  to  every  increase  in 
its  breadth.      Now,   as   every  movement   may   vary  in 
breadth,  every  kind  of  sensation  is  liable  to  varying  de- 
grees  of  intensity. 

Besides  the  general  difference  of  intensity,  sensations 
are  distinguished  by  specific  difference — differences  of 
quality  or  kind.  These  may  be  conceived  as  due  to  the 
form  of  movement,  and  the  form  of  a  movement  is  itself 
due  mainly  to  its  length  or  velocity.  There  are,  first,  the 
long  slow  movements  of  material  masses,  which  mani- 
fest themselves  in  the  form  of  mechanical  pressure, 
either  by  sensations  of  touch,  or  by  sensations  of  resis- 
tance to  muscular  effort,  or  by  felt  pulsations  upon  the 


The  General  Nature  of  Sensation.  23 

skin  or  throughout  the  nervous  tissue.  When  move- 
men  s  become  shorter  and  more  rapid,  reaching  a  verCy 
of  between  twenty  and  thirty  in  a  second,  they  begin  ,0 
affect  an  organ -the  ear-specially  differenti.tS  to 
rece,ve  the  impact  of  such  vibrations'and  t,en  xct  n 
consciousness  the  sensations  of  sound.  The  most  Inid 
vbrauon,  audible  do  not  exceed  38,000  in  a  sZd  a  d 

muTt    h"  r  '"  '''^■°"'  "-^ '"""  °'  "g-eabieness  '  We 
must,  therefore,  pass  over  a  vast  interval  before  we  reach 

the  movements  which  n.anifest  themselves  in  consdou, 

ness  as  sensations  of  heat.     These  movement,  he  1  ,1 

lowest  verge  of  luminous  vibrations,  the  slowe    oLhi c^ 

represented  by  the  red  rays  of  the  specrun,,  rise  To  the 

number  of  451  billions  in  a  second      But  Leyond    he 

highest  verge  of  light.-the  violet  rays,  whose  vib  a.ion! 

amount  to  785  billions  in  a  second,-,here  lie  the   Ct 

movements,  wh,ch  appear  in    the  chemical  or  ate' 

nct,o„ofl,ght.     Somewhere  in  this  series  lie  themov" 

ments  of  electr.cty,  the  action  of  which  on  the  neTvous 

a  sudden  shock  or  a  continuous  thrill 

The  phenomena  of  sensation  are  "thus  brought  into 
relation  w,th  the  general  forces  of  the  physical  wo  ,d 
and  the  quesfon  will  naturally  occur,  whjher  the  rda! 
.on  IS  that  un.forn,  ratio,  by  which  the  physical  forces 
themselves  are  held  in  a  system  of  unalterable  correZ 
dences,-a  system  which  is  being  gradually  unfoldedTn 
the  admirabe    nvesti^atinn,  r>f.„  j  •     ""'"'^o  '" 

correlation  -.r.A  ™'"'''™o"s  of  modern  science  on  the 
correlation  and  convertibility  of  the  physical  forces  1/ 
.he  correspondence  of  sensation  to  the  physical  forces  , 
of  the  same  kind,  then  both  must  admit  of  quantitat  ve 
commensuration.  That  would  imply  that  we  are  able  n 
o  measure  the  quantity  of  a  given  sensation,  and  Mo 
'orm  an  equation  between  that  quantity  aLd  a  Sen 


24 


Psych  hsy. 


i 


quantity  of  the  physical  force  by  which  it  is  stimulated. 
The  fact  that  the  same  sensation  admits  of  more  or  less 
intensity,  seems  to  furnish  an  obvious  basis  for  quanti- 
tative measurements;  and  on  this  basis  a  new  line  of  in- 
vestigation has  been  opened  up  in  recent  times  under 
the  name  of  Psychophysirs.  It  is  contended  that  a 
psychophysical  law  has  been  established,  expressing  a 
measurable  corresponditnce  between  the  intensity  of 
sensations  and  ihe  quan.ity  of  physical  force  which  forms 
their  sensible  stimulus. 

To  explain,  it  must  be  observed  that  the  law  is 
admitted  to  hold  only  vithm  certain  limits.  The  sensi- 
bility has  a  double  limit. — one  on  the  side  of  increase, 
another  on  the  side  of  decrease. 

I.  On  the  latter  it  is  evident  there  must  be  a  point, 
below  which  a  stimulus  svould  be  insufficient  to  excite  the 
sensibility  at  all. 

II.  But  on  the  other  side  also  it  is  found  that  a  given 
increase  of  stimulus  is  not  always  followed  by  a 
corresponding  increase  of  intensity  in  the  sensation 
produced.    The  effects  of  excessive  increase  are  different. 

1.  Very  often  an  extremely  powerful  or  extremely 
prolonged  stimulus  may  deaden  the  sensibility  altogether. 
The  ear  is  deafened  by  a  very  loud  noise,  the  eye  is 
blinded  by  excess  of  light.  The  skin  also  becomes 
insensible  to  a  contmued  contact,  like  that  of  the  clothing. 

2.  But  in  other  cabes  the  sensibility,  instead  of  being 
deadened,  is  altered  by  an  additional  force  of  stimulus. 
The  si)ecific  sensation,  usually  produced  by  an  external 
agent,  may  disai)pear  when  the  agent  becomes  unusually 
powerful,  and  be  replaced  by  a  general  sensation  of  an 
unpleasant  character.  Thus,  the  sense  of  temi)erature 
gives  way  to  an  indefinite  feeling  of  pain  under  excessive 
heat  or  ex.cessive  cold.     At  tiuics,  however,  a  specific 


m  .1 


The  General  Nature  of  Sensation,  2% 

sensation  of  a  new  character  is  excited,  that  is  to  say, 
under  certain  conditions  an  increase  of  pliysical  force 
produces,  not  an  increased  quantity,  but  a  di/Terent 
quality,  of  sensation,— not  the  old  sensation  with  a  new 
intensity,  but  a  new  sensation  altogether.  Thus,  the 
sensation  of  cold  is  not  merely  a  lower  degree  of  heat, 
though  the  stimuli  of  the  two  may  be  said  to  vary  merely 
in  force.  So  a  diminution  of  light  will  make  a  white 
gray,  and  a  blue  black. 

The   sphere    of    the    psychophysical    law,    then,    is 
restricted    by   those    limits    within    which    the   specific 
sensibility  is  not  destroyed  or  altered.     But  within  these 
limits  the  law  claims  to  express  the  exact  difference  of 
sensation.     The  difference  is  not  indeed  the  same  for  aP 
sensations.      It  is  said  to  be  in  the  proportion  3:4  for 
hearing   and  touch,    15:16    for    touch    assisted    by    the 
muscular  sense,  and  100:101  for  sight.     But  it  is  held 
that  there  is  a  constant  difference  for  all  the  senses,  and 
that  this  is  expressed  in  the  following  \?css -.—To  ma^e 
sensations  differ  in  intensity  in  the  ratio  of  an  arithmetical 
series,  their  stiniuti  must  differ  in  the  ratio  of  a  geometrical 
series. 

Now,  before  discussing  whether  this  law  is  verified  by 
experience,  it  is  worth  while  inquiring  whether  the  relation 
between  physical  and  psychical  phenomena  is  such  as  to 
allow  the  establishment  of  any  psychophysical  law  what- 
ever.     To  determine  this,  it  is  necessary  to  consider  tho 
nature  of  the  transition  from  physical  stimulus  to  sensa^ 
tion.     In  this  transition  there  are  two  stages  which  it  is 
important  to  distinguish.      i.  The  physical  movement 
must  be  translated  into  a  nervous  action,  -nu  though  this 
may  be  conceived  as  a  mode  of  motion,  yet  in  the  present 
state  of  physiology  the  precise  nature  of  the  motion  is 
unknown,  certainly  cannot  be  differentiated  in  conespon. 


26 


Psychology, 


dence  with  the  diflTorcnces  of  physical  stimulus  on  the 
one  hand  or  of  sensation  on  the  other,  a.  The  physical 
a. id  nervous  movements  must  be  translated  into  sensa- 
tion, into  consciousness.  Here  is  the  point  where  the 
difficulties  of  psych()|)hysics  become  insurmountable. 

I.  By  the  acknowledgement  of  all  thinkers  the  transition 
from  movement  to  consciousness  is  over  a  chasm  which 
cannot  be  bridged  by  the  ordinary  ideas  of  science;  and 
therefore  there  can  be  no  strictly  scientific  explanation  of 
the  transition.  The  scientific  incomprehensibility  here  is 
twofold. 

1.  There  is  a  general  incomprehensibility  ir  the  transi- 
tion from  movement  to  consciousness.  This  is  not  like 
the  translation  of  one  mode  of  motion  into  another.  The 
one  fact  which  renders  possible  the  commensuration  of 
the  various  physical  forces,  is  the  circumstance  that  they 
are  all  cajjable  of  being  described  in  terms  of  motion. 
Even  phenomena,  like  liuht  or  chemical  action,  which 
cannot  by  direct  observation  be  i)roved  to  be  modes  of 
motion,  may  yet  be  hypothetically  interpreted  as  such  ; 
and  in  fact  they  receive  thereby  such  a  fruitful  scientific 
elucidation,  as  seems  to  afford  an  establishment  of  the 
hypothesis.  But  no  similar  hypothesis  is  conceivable  in 
reference  to  the  sensations  of  our  conscious  life;  and 
consequently  there  is  here  an  absolute  break  in  the 
continuity  of  scientific  interpretation,  by  which  alone 
sensations  could  be  brought  into  commensurable  relation 
with  the  physical  forces  of  the  universe. 

2.  There  is  also  a  special  incomprehensibility  in  the 
transition  from  any  particular  kind  of  motion  to  any 
particular  kind  of  sensation.  We  cannot  explain  why 
air-waves  appear  in  consciousness  as  sound,  ether-waves 
as  light,  chemical  movements  as  taste  or  smell.  We 
cannot  even  discover  any  reason  for  the  ratio  between 


The  General  Nature  of  Sensation.  27 

changes  in  the  velocity  of  movement  and  concurrent 
changes  in  sensation.  There  is  indeed  a  certain  uniform 
progress  in  tones  correspondent  with  the  varying  velocity 
(/  the  atmospheric  vibrations  on  which  they  depend. 
Still  the  difference  between  a  higher  and  a  lower  note 
cannot  be  intelligibly  represented  as  having  any  similarity 
t )  the  difference  betw.^jen  a  larger  and  a  smaller  number. 
In  like  manner  an  increase  in  the  rapidity  of  ethereal 
vibrations  exhibits  no  resemblance  to  the  progress  from 
the  red  to  the  violet  side  of  the  rainbow. 

II.  Another  obstacle  to  the  establishment  of  a  psycho 
physical  law  is  met  with  in  the  impossibility  of  finding 
one  of  the  terms  in  the  equation  which  the  law  supposes. 
As  sensation  requires  both  a  physical  stimulus  and  a 
sensitive  organism,  its  intensity  depends  not  only  on  ob- 
jective, but  also  on  subjective,  conditions. 

I.  Now  this  implies,  in  the  first  place,  that  the  inten- 
sity of  the  nervous  action  excited  by  the  pliysical  move- 
ment depends,  not  only  on  the  force  of  that  movement, 
but  also  on  the  state  of  the  organic  sensibility  at  the  time. 
If  the  general  organism  is  exhausted,  as  by  an  ordinary 
day's  work,  or  by  any  extraordinary  exertion,  or  if  the 
particular   organ   affected   is   occupied   by  some   other 
stimulus  at  the  moment,  the  resulting  sensation  may  be 
greatly  enfeebled,  while  it  is  susceptible  of  violent  inten- 
sity,  not  so  much  from  the  normal  vigour  of  the  organism 
as  from  abnormal  irritations  due  either  to  emotional  ex- 
citement or  to  inflammatory  disease. 

2.  But  leaving  these  organic  conditions  of  intensity  out 
of  account,  there  are  mental  conditions  which  oppose  an 
insuperable  barrier  in  the  way  of  any  such  quantitative 
measurements  as  that  under  consideration.  These  men- 
tal conditions  are  summed  up  in  the  fact  that  we  are 
intelligent  beings.    The  primary  datum  for  forming  an 


28 


Piyclwiogy. 


I 


e(iiiation    between    our   sensations   and    their    physiral 
stimuli  is,  as  we  have  seen,  a  delerminate  intensity  of 
sensation.     But  we  have  no  means  of  discovering  what 
is  the  real  intensity  of  any  man's  sensations;  we  can  ol)- 
tain  merely  t!ie  judj^ment  which  he  has  formed  of  their 
intensity.     Now  there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  men's 
jud-ments  are  not  in  this  matter,  as  they  are  well  known 
to  I.e  in  others,  denocted  from  the  truth  by  njany  a  bias  * 
Another  quantitative  calculation  has  endeavoured  to 
find  the  interval  of  time  that  elapses  between  the  occur- 
rence of  a  physical  stimulus  and  a  resulting  sensation. 
Here,  again,  it  must  be  born  in  mind  that  organic  con- 
ditions are  called  into  play.    The  physical  stimulus  must 
be  converted   into  a  movement  in  nervous  tissue,  and 
transmitted  along  nerve-fibre.     The  rate  at  which  nerve- 
force  is  propngated  along  nerve-fibre  must  evidently  be 
modified  by  causes  similar  to  those  which  interfere  with 
intensity.     It  would  appear,  therefore,  that  any  rate  of 
velocity,  which  may  be  assigned  to  nerve-force,  can  be 
at   best   but   an   average   gathered   from   a  numberless 
variety  of  rates.   But  this  question  belongs  to  the  physio- 
logy of  the  nervous  system,  rather  than  to  psychology. 
If  we  waive  the  physiological  question  altogether,  there 
is   still  a  psychological  factor  in  the  general   problem. 
For  the  velocity,  with  which  a  physical  phenomenon  is 


*  The  origination  of  psychophysical  investigations  is  due  to  a 
veteran  German  physiologist,  G.  T.  Fechner,  though  he  generously 
ascribes  to  Professor  E.  H.  Weber  the  discovery  of 'the  psychophysi- 
cal law.  His  original  work,  Elemente  der  Psychophysik  (iS6o)  is 
now  out  of  print  ;  but  a  resume  of  its  doctrines,  as  well  as  of  Ihe 
controversies  and  the  literature  which  it  has  called  forlh,  wil!  be 
found  in  a  later  small  work  by  the  same  author,  In  Sachen  der 
Psychophysik  (1877).  More  recently  he  has  again  returned  to  the 
subject  in  Revision  der  Hauptpunkte  der  Psychophysik  (1882), 


I 


mm 


T/ti  General  Nature  of  Sensation.  29 

followed  by  a  recognition  of  it  on  the  part  of  an  intelli 
gent  being,  depends  on  the  judgment  which  is  involved 
m  the  act  of  recognition  ;  and  ihat  leads  us  into  a  sphere 
beyond  the  range  of  mere  physical  causation.     It  is  a 
well  known  fact,  therefore,  that,  whenever  accurate  ob- 
servations are  required  in  reference  to  time,  remarkable 
variations  of  judgment  appear  among  different  observers 
1  hese  variations  have  attracted  attention  especially  in  the 
science  of  astronomy,  where  accuracy  of  calculation  de- 
pends on  exactness,  even  to  fractions  of  a  second    with 
regard  to  the  time  of  an  astronomical  event  ;  and  conse- 
quenlly  it  has  become  necessary,  in  taking  observations 
to  form  a  -  personal  equation  »  in  order  10  eliminate  prsl 
sible  error  f-om  this  source. 


L    §  1-— Classification  of  Sensations. 

We  have  seen  that  sensations  difTer  not  only  in  inten- 
sity    but  also  in  quality  or  kind ;  and  we  have  now  to 
seek  a  systematic  arrangement  of  the  different  kinds  of 
sensation  in  the  same  fashion  as  other  sciences  classify 
the  phenomena  with  which  they  deal.     For  such  an  ar- 
rangement   the  first   requisite  i.  a  natural   principle  of 
Classification.     Now  the  sensations,  by  their  very  nature, 
seem  to  furnish  such  a  principle  ;  for  they  are  connected 
by  some  kind  of  natural  law,  with  the  alterations  in  ner! 
vous  tissue  that  are  brought  about  by  the  forces  of  the 
external  universe.     But  these  forces  generally  produce  a 
different  effect  on  difl-erent  parts  of  the  nervous  orgln! 
ism;  and  therefore  the  differences  of  sensation  hold  a 
ceitam  correspondence  with  the  difference  of  the  organs 
n  which  they  originate.     The  distinction,  then,  between 
the  organs  of  sensibility  forms  the  fundamental  principle 


30 


Psychology. 


I 


on  winch  the  sensations  are  classified     At  the  same  time 
here  are  other  facts,  to  which  a  subordinate  value  must 
be  attached  m  g  ,iding  our  classification.     For  even  if  we 
include  m  one  genus  all  the  sensations  which  originate  in 
one  organ,  yet  among  these,  numerous  species,  and  still 
more  numerous  varieties,  may  often  be  distinguished. 
I  o  trace  such  distinctions  we  must  at  times  simply  appeal 
o  observations  of  consciousness,  which  are  familiar  to 
he  every-day  experience  of  men.     For  sensations,  bein- 
the  simple  or  elementary  facts  of  mind,  cannot  be  defined 
or  described   by  anything  more  simple  or  elementary. 
Ihe  only  way  in  which  a  sensation  can  be  made  known 
IS  by  being/,//.     No  descriptive  language  can  ever  make 
a  person  know  what  any  particular  sensation  is,  if  he  is 
incapable  of  feeling  it.     Those  who  are  born  blind  can 
'orm  nocon.:eptionofacolour,  nor  those  born  deaf  of 
^  sound ;  and  if  any  one  wishes  to  know  the  taste,  or 
odour,  or  touch  of  a  substance  with   which  he  is  not 
tam.har,  he  must  taste  or  smell  or  handle  it.     But  men 
who  are  normally  formed  feel  all  the  ordinary  sensations 
of  human  hfe,  and  denote  them   by  familiar  terms;  so 
that  we  have  no  difficulty  in  referring  to  them  as  ^ell- 
known  facts  of  consciousness.     For  the  differences  of 

^^ZZr  T"  "''''''  ""'^'  ^"  ^"^  -d--y  con- 
scious hfe;  and  we  can  generally  direct  or  correct  our  ob- 

servations  of  these  differences  by  referring  to  the  organic 

their  ongm.     In  fact,  these  agencies  and  processes  ire 

tion  of  he  senses  which,  even  though  imperfect,  are  full 
of  fruitful  suggestions.  Thus,  in  reference  to  the  organic 
process  by  which  sensation  is  e::.ited,  the  senses  have 
sometimes  been  separated  into  two  cla  ses,  distinguished 
as  mechanical  and  chemical,  touch  being  taken  as  tjpe 


same  time 
alue  must 
even  if  we 
riginate  in 

and  still 
nguished. 
)ly  appeal 
miliar  to 
ns,  beina: 
e  defined 
mentary. 
e  known 
'er  make 

if  he  is 
lind  can 

deaf  of 
aste,  or 
!  is  not 
5ut  men 
isations 
ms ;  so 
IS  well- 
ices  of 
ry  con- 
3ur  ob- 
>rganic 
I  have 
es  are 
jsifica- 
re  full 
rganic 

have 
ished 
i  type 


T/ie  General  Nature  of  Sensation.  3 , 

of  the  former,  taste  and  smell  of  the  latter.  Again  the 
senses  of  smell,  taste,  and  touch  may  be  characterised  as 
bemg  adapted  to  the  gaseous,  the  liquid,  and  the  solid 
conditions  of  matter  respectively;  while  hearing  and 
s.ght,  thermal  and  electrical  sensibility,  respond  to  the 
sXtlble"^^^^"^^"^  of  which  molecules  or  atoms  are 

whf  K  Tl  '"'T''^  Classification  of  the  senses  is  that 
which  follows  the  classification  of  the  sentient  organs 
It  IS  too  common,  however,  to  accept  a  popular  descripi 
non  which  rep.esents  by  far  too  restricted  a  conception 
about  the  varieties  of  sensibility.     We  have  seen  that  we 

wiih  whi  h''"''.  "'"  "'  ^'^  <^omplicated  instrumentality 
with  which  m.nd  IS  endowed,  only  when  we  regard  the 

It  it'  'f  ri^'^  '^^'^  "^^^^^^'  -  ^^^  -g-  o 

sv^m  nf  "  '"'"^  °^^^"'^"'  ^'"^-  '''  -^-l>orate 

sy  tern  of  nerves,  is  perpetually  vibrating  to  the  innumer- 

ab^  vibrations  of  the  world's  forces,  and  wakening  in 

consc.        ess  the  innumerable  sensations  that  form'the 

ma  erials  of  our  mental  life.     The  kinds  of  sensation, 

herefore,  are  as  various  as  the  organs  of  the  body,  and 

the    processes    to    which    these    are    subject.      Now, 

the    classification    of    the     bodily    organs     and    thei 

processes     will     naturally     follow    the     order     which 

|s    generally    found    convenient    for    anatom  cal    and 

physiological  description.     But  there  is   one   group   of 

organs  distinctly  marked  off  from  the  rest  by  the  LT 

bat    by  their  very  structure,  they  are  adapted'primai  y 

any  other  function  they  may  subserve  in  the  animal 
economy  IS  evidently  subordinate.     Such,  for  examp" 
are   the   ear  and   the   eye,   whose    peculiar    formation 
obviously  renders  them  susceptible  of  being  affredbv 
the  sound-waves  of  the  atmosnh.r.   o„^  .1  T^^  ^^ 

i- J  „,jva  -.lis  ugiii- waves 


I 


32 


i  ii 


Psychology, 


of   ether    respectively:    these    are    the    functions,    to 
-vhich  they  are  specially  differentiated.   Accordingly,  such 
organs  are  distinguished  as  the  organs  of  the  special  senses. 
The  other  organs  of  the  body  do  give  rise  to  sensations ; 
but  they  do  so  only  incidentally,  in  the  performance  of 
the  various  functions  to  which  they  are  specially  adapted 
by  their  structure.    The  muscles,  the  stomach,  the  lungs, 
and  the  other  organs  of  animal  life,  are  thus,  at  the  same 
time,  organs  of  sensation.     The  susceptibility  of  sensa- 
tion, which  is  thus  spread  over  the  organs  of  the  body  in 
general,  is  commonly  called  the  general  sensibility.     Its 
various  forms  may,  in  contrast  with  the  special  senses,  be 
appropriately  named  i\^t  general  senses ',  but  the  language 
of  psychology,  in  reference  to  this  distinction,  is  not  yet 


I 


The  Special  Senses, 


33 


CHAPTER  IL 


THE  SPECIAL  SENSES. 

THESE  are  what  are  called  the  five  senses.  They  are 
here,  for  a  reascm  that  will  be  afterwards  explained, 
taken  up  in  the  following  order  :--taste,  smell,  touch, 
hearing,  sight.  In  the  account  of  each  we  shall  follow 
the  order  already  adopted  in  treating  of  sensation  in  gen- 
eral; we  shall  describe  (i)  the  organ,  (2)  the  substances 
or  agencies  by  vhich  the  organ  is  excited,  (3)  the  sensa- 
tions  which  result  from  such  excitatioa 


§  I. — Taste, 

(A)  The  organ  of  this  sense  is  situated  in  the  back  of 
the  mouth.  The  most  important  parts  of  the  organ  are 
the  posterior  region  of  the  upper  surface  of  the  tongue, 
and  the  soft  palate,  that  is,  the  posterior  portion  of  the 
palate.  But  the  adjoining  structures,  called  the  pillars 
of  the  soft  palate  and  the  tonsils,  are  also  sensitive  to 
taste.  The  guctative  sensibility  of  the  palate  has  im- 
pressed  itself  on  ordinary  language  in  the  use  of  the  word 
palate  for  taste,  not  only  as  a  noun,  but,  formerly,  also  as 
a  verb,*  and  in  the  verbal  adjective  palatable. 


*  "  Not  palating  the  taste  of  her  dishonour." 

Troi/us  an*l  Cressida,  Act  iv.,  Sec,  i. 


34 


Psychology. 


(B)   Sapid  substances,  as  belonging   to  the   physical 
world,  form  a  subject  of  investigation  for  the  physical 
sciences.     It  is  for  the  chemist  especially  to  trace  the 
constituent  of  any  substance,  on  which  its  taste  depends 
It  niay  be  sufficient  here  to  notice  merely  two  facts  about 
sapid  bodies,-one  referring  to  their  physical  condition, 
the  other  to  their  chemical  character.     The  first  is,  that 
they  must  all  be  either  liquids  or  solids  in  a  state  of  solu- 
tion ;  It  IS,  m  fact,  a  frmiliar  experience  of  every-day  life 
that  a  dry  substance  yields  no  taste  till  it  has  been 
moistened  or  dissolved  in  the  mouth.     The  other  fact 
with  regard  to  sapid  bodies  is  that  they  are  crystalloids, 
while  colloids  are  tasteless. 

It  is  for  the  physiologist  to  explain  the  mode  in  which 
bodies  act  upon  the  organ  of  taste.     It  has  been  already 
mentioned  that  taste  ranks  among  the  senses  which  are 
distinguished  as  chemical ;  and  it  does  so  because  sapid 
substances,  when  dissolved  in  the  mouth,  seem  to  under- 
go  some  kind  of  chemical  reaction,  by  which  they  stimu- 
late  the  terminal  filaments  of  the  gustatory  nerve.     A  dry 
substance  could  not  set  up  the  necessary  reaction,  and  a 
colloid,  being  unable  to  permeate  animal  tissue,  could 
not  r  ach  the  nerves  underlying  the  mucous  membrane 
of  the  mouth.     Only  crystalloids,  therefore,  in  a  state  of 
solution  can  excite  taste. 

(C)  Among  gustatory  sensations  or  tastes  we  must  dis- 
tinguish those  that  are  properly,  from  those  that  are  im- 
properly,  so  named. 

I.  Oi  tastes  proper  xhtxQ  have  been  various  attempts  at 
classification.  "  Plato  and  Galen  reckon  seven,  Aristotle 
and  Tneophrastus  eight,  species  of  simple  tastes.  These 
are  estimated  at  ten  by  Boerhaave  and  Linnaeus,  by 
Haller  at  twelve."*     More  modem  writers  have  given 

•  Sir  W.  Hamilton  in  Reid's  Works,  p.  ii6,  nott. 


The  Special  Senses.  •« 

di/Terent  enumerations,  so  that  no  classification  can  yet 
be  said  to  be  universally  accepted. 

II.  But  many  sensations  are  improperly  called  tastes 
being  in  reality  sensations  of  a  different  sense  altogether' 
or  mixed  with  such  sensations. 

I.  Smell  undoubtedly  contributes  to  many  so-called 
tastes.    This  fact  seems  to  be  implied  in  the  sv ords  Jlavour 
and  savour,  which  are  both  used  for  tastes  and  smells 
indiscrmimately ;  and  it  was  pointed  out  so  long  ago, 
at  least,  as  by  Lord  Bacon.*     It  explain,  why  a  catarrh 
generally  renders  a  person  insensible  apparently  to  tastes 
which  can  be  readily  appreciated  in  health,  the  real  in- 
sensibility  being  to  the  odour  of  bodies  that  are  put  into 
the  mouth.     From  the  same  cause  the  unpleasantness  of 
nauseous  drugs  may  often  be  lessened  or  removed  by 
holding  the  nose  while  they  are  swallowed,  and  a  fuller 
gratification  seems  to  be  obtained  from  wines,  especially 
when  sparkling,  by  the  use  of  wide  glasses.     So  obtrusive 
IS  this  element  of  odour  in  many  of  the  familiar  sensa- 
tions of  taste,  that  some  writers  have  gone  to  the  extreme 
of  holding  all  flavour  to  be  due  to  the  sense  of  smell  • 
but  this  IS  contradicted  by  cases  in  which  the  sense  of 
smell  has  been  destroyed  without  the  taste  being  im- 
paired.! 

2.  Some  of  the  general  sensations,  called  alimentary, 
also  mingle  and  become  confounded  at  times  with  pure 
tastes.  By  alimentary  sensations  are  meant  those  ex- 
cited in  the  alimentary  canal,  that  is,  the  passage  through 
w  ich  tne  food  is  conveyed  in  the  process  of  digestion. 
The  parts  of  this  canal  nearest  to  the  mouth,  namely  the 
oesophagus  and  the  stomach,  give  rise  to  a  variety  of 


*  Novum  Orgamn,  Book  ii.,  Aphor.  26 

+  Carpenter's  Human  Physiology,  §  744  (Americar.  Ed.,  ,860). 


36 


Psychology. 


I 


sensations   simultaneously    with    tastes;   and   it   is    not 
always   easy   to  distinguish   them    from   tastes    even    by 
attentive  observation.     The  canal  is  similar  in  structure, 
and  IS  immediately  contiguous,  to  the  posterior  region  oi 
the  mouth,  in  which  the  sense  of  taste  is  situated  ;  and 
as  soon  as  a  sapid  body  is  introduced  into  the  mouth,  it 
dissolves  in  the  saliva,  its  particles  in  solution  find  th'cir 
way  inio  the  oesophagus  and  stomach,  and  ex-ite  the 
sensibility    of   these    ori;ans.      It    is   scarcely   possible 
therefore,  to  determine  with  exactness  where  gustatory 
sensibility  terminates,  and  the  sensibility  of  the  alimcn- 
tary  canal  begins  ;  so  that  the  sensations  of  taste  are  to 
be  viewed  as  merely  the  first  in  a  long  series  of  sensations 
connected  with  the  digestion  of  food.      It   is   on    this 
account  that,  whenever  any  article  of  food  is  introduced 
into  the  mouth,  we  feel  whether  it  is  agreeable  to  the 
stomach  or  not,  that  is,  we  feel  the  stomachic  sensations 
of  relish  or  nausea. 

3-  Another  class  of  general  sensations,  which  cannot 
here  be  more  definitely  described   than  as  being  of  an 
irritating  character,  are  sometimes  confounded  with  tastes 
proper.     Such  are  the  sensations  produced  by  substances 
like  alcohol,  pepper,  as  well  as  other  spices,  and  com- 
monly  spoken    of  as  pungent,    sharp,    or  fiery   tastes. 
Ihat  these  are  quite  distinct  from  true  tastes  is  evident 
from    two   circumstances.       {a)    Mechanical   irritation 
such  as  is  caused  by  a  smart  rap  or  a  scratch  with  the 
finger  on  the  tongue,  may  excite  similar  sensations,     (b) 
1  hey  can  be  excited  also  on  other  parts  of  the  body  be- 
sides the  organ  of  taste.     Not  only  is  the  mucous  mem. 
brane,  which  lines  the  whole  mouth,  the  nostrils,  and  the 
alimentary  canal,  irritable  under  the  action  of  such  sub 
stances,  but  the  most  powerful  of  them  at  least  can  set 


The  Special  Senses,  37 

up  severe  inflammation  even  in  the  tougher  skin  which 
covers  the  exterior  of  the  organism. 


§  2.—~SmelL 

{A)  The  organ  of  this  sense  is  the  posterior  region  of 
the  nostrils.     The  fact  that  there  are  two  nostrils  brings 
them  mto  analogy  with  the  organs  of  the  higher  senses 
which  are  also  double,  and  which  derive  an  increase  of 
efficiency  from  this  feature.     In  man,  however,  the  organ 
of  smell  is  not  so  highly  developed  as  in  some  of  the 
lower  annuals,  especially  the  carnivorous.     The  cerebral 
ganglion,  from  which  the  olfactory  ntrve  proceeds  to  the 
nostrils,  IS  in  man  a  comparatively  insignificant  bulb  of 
nervous  matter,  while  in  those  animals  it  forms  a  con- 
siderable  proportion  of  the  whole  brain.     It  may  there 
fore  be  said  that  there  is  more  brain-power  expended  in 
smelling  by  those  animals  than  by  man.     The  signifi- 
cance of  this  fact  in  comparative  anatomy  will  appear 
when  we  come  to  analyse  the  perceptions  of  this  sense 
It  will  then  be  shown  that  in  man  the  sense  has  lost  in 
cognitional  power,  while  its  emotional  side  has  become 
predominant. 

(B)  Odorous  substances  furnish  interesting  subjects  of 
investigation  to  the  chemist.  Without  entering  into 
details  which  have  no  bearing  on  psychology,  there  are 
tHu  facts  worth  noticing  here. 

I.  Odorous  bodies  are  either  gases,  or,  if  liquids  or 
sohds,  they  must  be  volatile.  Any  agent,  therefore,  like 
lieat,  »h,ch  increases  voKitility,  also  intensifies  odour 
Accordingly,  odour  is  conceived  to  be  due  to  minute 
parttcles,  called  .ffl,nua,  emitted  by  odorous  bod.es. 
These  parucles.  bemg  diffused  throughout  the  atuios. 


lif 


I 


38 

phe 


Psychology. 


nostrils, 


the 


carried,  by  the  act  o,  inhaling,  throu. 
II.   Odorous    bodies    have   «n    o     . 

oxygen,  and  substances",-!:       drcr^h.^ht  '"'^ 
combine  w  th  oxvapn  ^f      ^-  ^^"'   ^"'ch  do  not 

odorous.       Chem^'l   1      '""'  '^"'P^^^'-es.  are  in- 

believing  .hat    H%:r;7lr:/""<^    ''"""'    f- 

oxidised  in  the  nos.ri  s  V  h    act  or/r-'l^'^^""'^ 
olfactory  nerve       7f  i,  .  stimulating   the 

action  o' bod,;:  on  ths:::T"''f  '■"'""'^  '"^^  '^« 

^  (c)  In  regard  to  .hi  ci  :;:::,^'.t  ^''^■"""'- 

fusion  similar  to  thar  «,h;^i,  u     .  "'^''^  '^  »  =on- 

reference  to  tas^ef  "'  '"""  "''^""^  "^''-^^d  in 

have  beer:itmr;'v:t  ""^'  """"^  ^'^-■«-'-- 

In  fact,  the  language  of  comC„"Tfr"^  "^"^nised. 
absence  of  names  for  H,  ^  '''""'^  "  remarkable 

distinction  b'e^rtht'  riri.trd  r  °r^  '^^'-'^ 

and  unpIeasantness-sweet  o    fra^rll       P'^"'="""-s 
stinks  or  stenches.  ^      '  P«'''^"n'es,   and 

It  has  sometimes  been  asserted  thatth.  „^ 
has  been  evolved  within  the  human  °'^°";-''^"^« 

within  historical  times  R, ,  ,k  .  "'^'  '"<*  ^'''^n 
live  psychology  is  rpT'.o  h  "  '  """'"'"  °^  '^'"P^'^' 
is,  as  already IndcaTedth,,  '""'T'""''"-  ^he  truth 
lower  animafs  to  m    1h    e  j."  '"^  '"'"^'^''^"  ^-n  the 

'"--■•% -He  aUit^re^ard:::;::::,^^^ 

highly  odorous  Jj^^clXrZ^tr''  "  '^  '"=  ^""'   "■« 
effluvia  for  year.  „i,ho„t  sXCt  ?  '"°™  '°  •=""' 

weigh,  or  bulk.     But  .his  flc,  is  m.,\  7'''='="'"=  <li,„i„„,i„„  of 
indefUi.e  divisibility  „ft>„«  ''  ""^  °''"='  ""»««  =f  *e 


The  Special  Senses.  %q 

of  odours,  while  there  has  been  a  diminution  in  the 
power  of  perception  by  scent-a  diminution  which  seems 
an  instance  at  once  of  organic  atrophy  and  of  intellectual 
degeneration,  arising  from  the  disuse  of  a  faculty.* 

II.  But  not  a  few  sensations  are  improperly  called 
odours,  because  they  are  in  reality  sensations  of  a  differ- 
ent class,  or  mixed  with  such  sensations. 

I    Pulmonary  sensations,  that  is,  sensations  connected 
with  the  action   of  the  lungs,  become  inevitably  con- 
founded with  odours.     In  the  act  of  breathing,  the  air 
carrying  the  effluvia  of  bodies,  passes  through  the  nos- 
trils on  its  way  to  the  lungs;  and  the  sensations  awakened 
arise  often  as  much  from  the  state  of  the  lungs  as  from 
the  state  of  the  nostrils.     This  is  the  case  with  what 
are  called  fresh  and  dose  smells.     A  close  smell  \%  the 
sensation  experienced  in  an  over-crowded  assembly  or 
ill-ventilated  room,  where  the  vitiated  atmosphere  does 
not  supply  a  sufficient  quantity  of  oxygen   for  healthy 
respiration.     The  feeling  excited  is  not  merely  that  of 
irritation   in   the  nostrils,   but   a   consciousness   of  de- 
pression  diffused  over  the  whole  animal  system,  which 
depends  for  Its  vitality  at  every  -    .ment  on  the  aeration 
of  the  blood  through  the  lungs.     On  the  other  hand 
some  of  the  most  voluminous  pleasures  of  our  animal 
nature  are  due  to  the  combination  of  delicious  odours 
with  the  bracing  effect  upon  all  the  powers  of  life  arising 
from  the  stimulation  of  cool  fresh  air.     Any  one  who 
after  being  confined  during  the  heat  of  a  wet  summer 
day,  has  gone  out  to  walk  in  a  country  redolent  with  the 
fragrance  which  the  showers  have  drawn  from  the  sur 


of  luet ''  "'"''''''"^  '^'""'"'^  '"'"  '°"'''''^"°  ""''"^  ^^^  percepUon. 


■it' 
illl 

m 


40 


Psychology. 


I 


••  Sweet  after  showers,  ambrosial  air, 

That  rollcst  from  the  Korseous  gloom 
Of  evening,  over  bral<e  an  1  bloom 

And  meadow,  slowly  breathing  bare 

The  round  of  space,  and  rapt  beluw 
Through  all  the  dewy-tasselled  wood, 
And  shadowing  down  the  horned  flood 

In  ripples,  fan  my  brow,  and  blow 

The  fever  from  my  cheeks,  and  sigh 
The  full  new  li  e  that  feeds  thy  breath 
Through  all  my  fran,e.  till  Doubt  and  Death. 

Ill  brethren,  let  the  fancy  fly 

From  belt  to  belt  of  crimson  seas 

On  leagues  of  odour  streaming  far 

To  where  in  yonder  orient  star 
A  hundred  spirits  whisper.  Peace." 

a.  The  alimentary  canal  2i\%o  seems  to  be  affected  as 
much  as  the  nostrils  in  many  so-called  smells.     Whether 
this  is  due  to  effluvia  passing  into  the  canal  and  irritating 
Its  interior  coat,  or  to  some  nervous  connection  between 
the  organ  of  smell  and  the  organs  of  digestion,  is  a  prob- 
lem for  physiology  to  solve.    Many  aromatic  substances 
however,  both  solid  and  liquid,  various  kinds  of  flesh 
when   well   cooked,   especially  when   highly  spiced   or 
flavoured  with  sauce,  undoubtedly  excite  the  stomach 
and  stimulate  the  appetite,  by  their  c         ;  and  it  is  this 
that  makes  the  artifices  of  cookery  so  va.uable  when  the 
appetite  is  not  naturally  strong.      So,  too,  many  smells, 
by  the  fact  that  they  are  called  disgusting,  indicate  that 
they  are  irritating  to  the  alimentary  canaJ.      When  the 
stomach  is  already  out  of  order,  it  is  easily  thrown  into 
violent  nausea  by  any  disagreeable  smells;  but  even  in  • 


The  Special  Senses.  ^j 

heaUh  some  horrible  odours,  especially  when  unr-pect"^ 
produce  a  d.su.rbance  of  the  digestive  organs 

3.  Puxgent  smells,   like   the   taste  described  by  the 
same  name,  seem  to  be  rather   general  sensations  oj 
an    .rntatmg  character   than   smells   strictly  so  called. 
;  "'  •"">'  ^  ""''«  «"dent  from  two  considerations  :- 
W  bensat.ons  similar  to  those  excted  by  snuff,  penner 
ammonm,  &c.,  can  be  produced  by  mechanical  irrLtion' 
as    for  example,  by  the  sudden  contact  of  the  nostriU 
w.th  a  cold  atmosphere,  or  by  tickling   them  with  a 
feather  or  a  straw.     This  mechanical  irritation  will  even 
sure  the  spasmodic  act  of  sneezing,  which  results  from 
the  more  violent  sensations  of  a  pungent  character.     M) 
Moreover,  persons  who  have  long  indulged  in  t»     Mse  of 
snuff  sometimes  lose  the  sense  of  smell  proper,  while 
remamtng  sensitive  to  the  pungency  of  their  favourite 


^^  %Z-—T(iucK 
(A)  In  the  most  general  meaning  of  the  term  the 

wTh       '°"f  "  "-^  ^'''"  °^  "^^  """'^  body,  incu'd! 
ng  the  membranes  which  line  the  mouth,  the  nostrils, 
and  other  mternal  organs.      The  skin  consists  of  ,„o 
layers.      The  outermost  is    an    insensitive    protective 
covering,   ca  ed  the  scarf  skin  (cuticle,  or  epidermis). 
Underlytng  th,s  ,s  the  true  skin  (cutis  vera,  or  derma 
which  ,s  sensitive.      But  the  sensibility  of  the  skin  to 
the  contact  of  foreign  bodies  is  dependent  on  certain 
minute  elevations  under  the  true  skin  called  fapUlae 
whtch  are  found  to  be  most  largely  developed  in  size 
and  number  at  those  parts  which  are  proved  by  Mperi- 
ment  to  be  most  sensitive  to  touch.      It  appears,  there- 
fore, that  different  parts  of  the  general  orLn  o   ,1    h 


42 


Psychology, 


i      i!  I 


possess  different  degrees  of  acuteness.  To  determine 
the  extent  of  this  difierence,  experiments  were  f.rst  insti- 
Uited  by  a  distinguished  German  physiclogist.  P.ofess..r 
E.  H.  Weber;  and  the  results,  at  which  he  a.rived.  have 
been,  m    general,  confirmed    by  subsequent   observers 

could  be  felt  d.stmct  on  different  parts  of  the  skin      For 
this  purpose,  he  used  a  pair  of  compasses  with  blunted 
points ;   and  the  persons,  on   whom  he  experimented 
were  blindfolded,  to  prevent  the  sight  fron.  coming  to 
aid  the  touch.     It  is  unnecessary  here  to  state  in  detail 
the  results  obtained.      Suffice  it  to  say  that  th.  most 
acute  parts  were  found  to  be  the  tip  of  the  tongue  and 
the  palmar  surface  of  the  tip  of  the  forefinger,  where 
the  points  of  the  compasses  could  he  felt  distinct  at  the 
distance  of  half  a  line  and  one  line  respectively;  while 
on  the  most  obtuse  parts,  which  were  proved  to  be  the 
middle  of  the  back,  the  arm,  and  the  thigh,  the  points 
made  two  distinguishable  impressions  only  at   the  dis 
tance  of  thirty  lines.       It  may  be  observed  that  these 
results  represent  merely  the  average  sensibility,  for  in 
making  experiments  of  this  sort,  it  must  always  be  borne 
m  mmd,  that  the  same  part  exhibits  various  degrees  ,A 
acuteness  in  different  individuals  and  even  in  the  same 
mdiviaual  at  different  periods.     Moreover,  these  experi- 
ments  test  merely  one  form  of  tactile  sensibihty;  but  as 
far  as  touch  proper  is  concerned,  all  its  forms  are  fairlv 
represented    by   the   sensibility   to   distinctness   in   the 
points  of  contact. 

The  most  sensitive  part  of  the  general  organ  of  touch 
appears  thus  to  be  the  tip  of  the  tongue;  but  in  many 
respects  it  is  obviously  incapable  of  being  used  for 
ordinary  tactile  observations  so  conveniently  as  the 
finger-tips.      For   delicate  observations,   however,  the 


The  Special  Senses. 


needles,  and^:!.'^^^  ~  -'f-'  '"-d  L. 
exmnine   any  ,„.,„,   with   'wht    ' ,"     '""•■'"'"'  "-'^"^  '" 

'"<=  'ouch  of  his  Z  1-     «"f '^"^  '=°"'""'"  l"=»"s  l>y 
in.:onveniences  of  Z^\.    '^"V"'"  ^'■'""  ""^  °''*"°'" 

•He  nn.er..p.  a.e  inti  ;h:rarp::d°b ''r-"'''"^' 
f"'n  and  Structure  for  thpn,^"^  ^^  ^^^^    ^^si- 

"'"■e  at  the  wrists,  the  eZ  /  ^  u  "^"''  "°"8  "''h 
an  enormous  sweep  and  a'  ".  '  ^'"""ders,  give 
movements  of  the  finger-tb' whir''"'  """""  '°  '"^ 
exhibit  that  doublenesfwh  ch  h  t'"  '™  ^"P^"'  'h^y 
to  as  a  characerist,"    eal'e  „  "  "'"'"^  "'■"^^^'' 

senses,  each  hnnd  act  /  a  "ai  '  2T\t  "'  "'■«''" 
'l'"">b  acting  against  .he  fin„e,"  in  '  tl'' T"^  "•" 
fingertips  are  thus  admirably'.  d^pLr'  '""'';  ^"^ 
leiiiy  of  manipulation  and  for  dr  °"'^  ^^  <^<"'- 

r-gard  to  th     geome'trica,   /nH    T^  °' ''''='^""'^"' '" 
hodies.     In  fact  thert  1  '*^"'-'"'   P^P^^'es   of 

^nperiorhy   0?",;,    "  o'^  :  T^:'''-^:  '"  ^^^^^  '^e 
cl.nnsy  hoofs  and  paws  i,  I      r       f""""'"'    "'"^   ">«'' 
organ  of  touch ;  a'nd  si  ce  the  ."'"^'^  T^'''  '^  '»  "^<-- 
declared  i,  .0  be  the  h  "d,    h!t       t  ""'"  ^naxagoras 
'ehigent  of  animals  it  h"h        .""'''"  ''^'"  '"«  "»"  '"■ 
■l-re  seems  .0  b   1'  pro,li''V"''"^""^  ""^^'^'^  '"a, 
or  general  intelli^nce  a  /hTd     T'"  "'  development 
the  animal  l<ingdom  t  <'^''^'°P'"^nt  of  touch  i„ 

Less  comtnonlv  fh*.  u.^o  !  '    ' ^" -_ 

P  58).     Dr.  Franks  palfen,  illr  '^'•"''"'"  "nd lU  Bli„J, 


/:.'..K 


44 


Psychology. 


I 


To  sum  up,  while  the  general  organ  of  touch  is  the 
skin  of  the  whole  body,  the  special  organ  of  the  sense 
may  be  hm.ted  to  the  finger-tips.     Numerous  symbolical 
actions  m  which  the  hand  is  the  chief  instrument  em- 
ployed; numerous  figurative  expressions  in  which  the 
word  hand,  or  its  derivatives,  convey  the  principal  idea 
Z\     .    T"^  or  on  hand,  to  be  in  the  hands  or  under 
the  hand  of,  to  lay  hands  on,  hands  off  I  handy,  handsome, 
kandsel,  handle~ihe  various  compounds  like  handbook, 
handttvork,  manufacture,  etr  -all  these  point  to  a  reco^! 
nition,  even  by  the  popular  mind,  of  the  fact,  that  tire 
/m  Vu     conspicuous  organ  of  active  intelligence.  * 
(B)  The  action  of  tangible  bodies  contrasts  with  that  of 
sapid  and  odorous  bodies  by  being  purely  mechanical^ 
mechanical  pressure.     Accordingly,  any  form  of  matter, 
which  can  exert  such  pressure,  may  become  an  object  of 
touch.     Even  the  air  or  any  gas  may  be  felt,  if  brought 
with  sufficient  force  against  the  skin,  as  when  we  are 
standing  against  a  breeze,  or  moving  rapidly  through  a 

h.n7"/°""T'^'"  ^"^  '^"  °''^'"  ^^^''"^^  the  phenomenon  of  right, 
handedness  deserves  notice,  though  the  superiority  of  the  right  hand 
consists  rather  in  its  prehensile  than  in  its  sensLe  power       e" 
tremely  divergent  views  on  the  source  of  this  peculiarity  are  stHl 

th:Terhand  f  ^"^ '°^'  ^'"  '  '"'''''  '""^'^  ^  clegeneratL: 
the  eft  hand  from  comparative  disuse,  and  that  ambidexteritv- 

double.r.g  .handedness,  to  use  a  Hibernicism-might  and  should 

be  generally  cultivated.     The  science  of  evolutionism,  howe  er  It 

the  present  day  tends  to  look  upon  righthandedness    s  one  of  th ' 

d.lfe  ent.ations  naturally  arising  in  the  process  of  evolution,  and  in 

fers  that  instances  of  lefthandedness  are  merely  survivals  Vrom  an 

IrJr  H-  ''""'^^  ^"^  -"^'^"^'^^  details  Mall  be  found  in 

a  recent  dissertation  by  Dr.  Daniel  Wilson  On  tke  Ki.Iu  HauiaZ 
Z.A  W..«..  .n  the  Transactions  of  the  Royal  Soci^  of  Cana;;. 


TJie  Special  Senses,  A't 

still  atmosphere ;  and  instances  may  be  adduced  of  deli- 
cate tactile  perceptions  by  means  of  the  pulse  of  the  air 
on  the  face.     Liquids  also,   in  so  far  as  they  can  press 
against  the  skin,  are  tangible.     In  virtue  of  the  law  which 
requires  change  or  contrast  of  excitement  in  order  to 
sensation,  a  jet  of  air  or  water  is  felt  with  special  ease, 
as  a  spot  of  light  or  colour  becomes  peculiarly  distinct 
against  a  dark  ground,  or  a  faint   tone  is  heard  most 
clearly  amid  a  profound   silence.      By  the  same  law, 
when  any  part  of  the  body  is  at  rest  in  water,  the  contact 
of  the  water  is  felt  only  along  the  line  of  its  surface,  as 
the  continued  even  pressure  of  a  solid  on  the  skin  is  felt 
only  around   the  edge.      Commonly,   however,  in   the 
action  of  gases  as  well  as  of  liquids  on  the  organ  of 
touch,  their  temperature  is  more  obtrusively  felt  than 
their  contact.     It  is,  therefore,  the  solid  condition  that  is 
appropriate  to  this  sense. 

(C)  It  is  an  often-quoted  saying  of  the  ancient  philo- 
sopher Democritus,  that  all  the  senses  are  merely  modi- 
fications  of  touch  ;  and  there  is  a  certain  amount  of  truth 
in  the  statement,  inasmuch  as  the  special  senses  are  all 
normally  excited  by  the  impact  of  external  forces  on  their 
organs.     On  this  account  touch  is  sometimes  spoken  of 
as  the  primitive  sense  of  animal  life—the  rudimentary 
type  out  of  which  all  the  other  senses  have  been  evolved. 
But  this  could  be  held  true  only  of  an  indefinite  sensibi^ 
lity  to  the  contact  of  foreign  bodies,  not  of  the  highly 
specialised  touch  of  man.     It  has  long  been  recognised 
that  the  human  senje  called  by  this  name  combines 
several  forms  of  dermal  sensibility ;  and  it  is  scarcely 
possible  for  science  to  define  with  precision  all  these 
varieties.*    Of  touch,  ever,  in  its  strictest  definition,  the 
sensations  are  various. 


^su  liajr  cj-.i;cniiiciii3  arc  ocing  camcu  On,  bi^^Q  in 


46 


Psychology. 


I  lii 


I.  Perhaps  the  simplest  and  purest  form  of  touch  is 
hat,  ,„  which  a  body  is  felt  in  n.ere  contact  with  the 

di/^eren?        ee^  V^^^^^^^^^  ^^^^  ^^i-d  on 

either  frnn,  ,i!  f.^''"e-     The  pressure  may  arise 

bid.   o^^        ■  ''P"'"°"  °'  ""^  """'■='«  ^""'Posin^  a 

earth      oIT  "'  '"""'""  '"""*  ""^  -"'-  "^  ''- 

softnesril,?  '^  ^  comparative  hardness  and 

bodes  '  hI?'""""   '""'""  "^'    "^'""^"'    "' 
Dodies      Here,  however,  touch  is  supplemented  bv  the 

feel  hardness  or  softness,  we  squeeze  the  body  between 

offl  "f  L"  "  ":  '^"°"^  '^^  <'^S-«  of  resistan      ," 

aho    whe!       Tf  u  "'°"  °'  ^<1'"^^'"S  ";  commonly, 
also,  when  we  feel  the  weight  of  a  body,  we  try  how 

much  muscular  force  requires  to  be  exerted  by  the  hand" 
or  arms  to  keep  it  from  being  drawn  to  the  earth      Stil 

'^::ti  ''''-'"  f '  '"-^"^  -^^^-^ "  ~ 

sensiwL  o'f  m"'?  °'  '^''"''  '^"^  '°  ^how  that  thi 

part      n  ,„f    M  """''  ''"  ^^"'^""'^  »'  different 

pars,  ,n  tolerably  exact  correspondence  with  the  sensi 
bihty  to  separate  points.^  *"'''" 

III.  The  last  form  of  tactile  sensibility  is  that  whic'i 
■mpbes  pressure  at  more  points  than  one.     From  this  a 
will  afterwards  appear,  we  form  our  percepiiZ  of  Ih. 
mutual  externality  of  different  points'    To    t  we  ot 
^^o_;h^--.ions  connected  with  smooth  and  n,;" 

n.e„,s.  specially  of  ^hl  e„;::',d  bvpTofT;,"' 1 '^'*  "P"'- 
son  in  ,he  psychophysical  labo^ory  of  the    ohn    H     ,     '  f,™"'''- 


The  Special  Senses.  ^y 

surfaces :  for  if  a  number  of  points  simultaneously  in 
contact  with  the  skin  are  felt  to  be  absolutely  continuous 
the  sensation  is  that  of  smoothness  or  fineness ;  whereas' 
if  the  continuity  is  felt  to  be  broken  by  minute  intervals 
between  the  points,  the  sensation  is  that  of  rough  or 
coarse  touch.  In  these  sensations,  also,  touch  is  usually 
aided  by  the  muscular  sense,  by  rubbing  the  finger-tips 
over  the  tangible  surface. 

To  guard  against  misapprehension,  it  may  be  well  to 
notice  here  several  sensations  which  are  apt  to  be  con- 
founded  with  touches,  inasmuch  as  they  are  located  on 
the  skm,  and  perhaps  even  the  nerves  of  touch  form  the 
organ  of  sensibility  in  the  case  of  some. 

1.  Among  the  most  prominent  of  these  are  those 
irritating  sensations  which  have  been  already  described 
^s  pungent  tastes  and  odours. 

2.  Tickling  is  another   familiar   sensation  connected 
with  the  skin.     The  nervous  condition,  upon  which  this 
feehng    depends,    is    unknown;    and,    therefore,   it    is 
impossible  to  tell  what   makes   one  part   of  the   skin 
sensitive  to  tickling  rather  than  others ;  but  it  may  be 
observed    that   the  most  sensitive  parts,   such   as   the 
armpits    and    the    soles    of    the    feet,   are    those    of 
comparatively  obtuse  tactile  sensibility.     As  a  pheno- 
menon   in    consciousness,    however,    the    sensation   is 
very  distinctly  marked.     In  its  milder  forms  it  constitutes 
a  pleasurable  excitement ;  but  when  excessive  in  dura- 
tion  or  intensity,  it  becomes  more  or  less  intolerable. 
In  all  forms  it  is  exciting,  and  is  apt  to  explode  in  spas^    ' 
vnodic  actions,  such  as  a  sneeze  or  an  hysterical  laugh. 

3.  Another  cutaneous  sensation  of  an  irritating  char 
acter  is  itc/i,  which  is  also  clearly  defined  in  conscious- 
ness,  whatever  may  be  its  nervous  cause. 

4.  In  this  connection  ought  to  be  mentioned  the  sen- 


48 


Psychology. 


sation  oitingUug,  which  is  popularly  described  by  saying 
that  a  hmb  is  '  asleep."  -^      /    s 

5-  Lastly,  the  sensation  of  the  temperature  of  the  skin 
must  hkewise  be  distinguished  from  a  touch,  properly  so 


I 


i  §  4- — Hearing, 

(A)  The  organ  of  hearing  is  perhaps  the  most  com- 
phcated  structure  of  the  same  size  in  the  human  body. 
Only  us  most  general  features  can  or  need  be  noticed 
here  It  is  divided  into  three  parts-the  external,  the 
middle,  and  the  internal,  ear. 

I.  The  externaU:ix  consists  of  two  parts  '.—(x)^^^  pinna 
that  is,  the  wing-like  structure  which  projects  from  the 
side  of  the  head,  and  the  convolutions  of  which  seem  to 
collect  the  vibrations  of  the  atmosphere  for  transmission 
mto  (2)  the  meatus  auditorius,  the  passage  by  which 
these  vibrations  are  conveyed  to  the  interior  of  the  organ. 

II.  The  middle  ear,  called  also  the  tympanum  or  drum 
IS  a  bony  cavity,  separated  from  the  auditory  passage  by 
a  membrane-the  membrana  tympani—ixnd  communicat- 
mg  with  the  mouth,  and  therefore  with  the  external  at- 
mosphere, by  means  of  a  passage  called  the  Eustachian 
tube.  This  part  of  the  ear  contains  a  chain  of  three 
small  bones,  attached  at  one  end  to  the  membrana  tym- 
pani,  and  at  the  other  end  to  a  membrane— the  man- 
brana  i^tJibuli—^Y^iz)^  separates  the  middle  from  the  in- 
ternal  ear. 

III.  The  internal  ear  is  also  a  bony  cavity,  or  rather  a 
set  of  cavities,  so  complicated  in  structure  as  to  obtain 
the  name  of  labyrinth.  This  set  of  cavities  contains  a 
membranous  sac— //a?  membranous  /a^//v>////— suspended 


i  J 


The  Special  Senses,  ^q 

in  a  fluid,  and  attached  to  the  terminal  filaments  of  the 
auditory  nerve. 

The  ear  is  thus  an  organ  specially  adapted  to  be  sensi- 
tive   to   minute   vibrations.      Vibratory   movements   in 
general,  and  especially  those  of  a  coarser  character  are 
apt  to  communicate  themselves  to  all  elastic  bodies  'and 
may  thus    be   transmitted    through    the   atmosphere  to 
objects  at  a  considerable  distance.     Thus  a  discharge  of 
artillery  will   smash    glass    windows,  and   shake    heavy 
masonry  in  the  neighbourhood,  while  its  shock  can  be 
distmctly  felt  by  the  general  sensibility  of  the  organism. 
1  he  rumble  of  a  waggon  passing  on  the  street  shakes  the 
ground  on  which  we  tread,  and  sends  a  tremor  through 
all   our   frame.      Even  the    finer   vibration   of  a   wire 
in   a  musical   instrument   may   shoot  a   thrill   through 
the    fingers,    or    through     other    parts    of    the    bcdy 
by    which    the    wire    is    touched.       Ordinarily    these 
general   forms    of    sensibility   to    vibratory   movement 
are  scarcely  noticed,,  because  the   special  sensations  of 
hearing  are  so  much  more  valuable.      But  to  the  deaf 
suc'>  substitutes  for  the  lost  special  sense  are  often  wel- 
come      Laura  Bridgman,  who  is  blind  as  well  as  deaf 
has  often  surprised  her  teachers  by  the  readiness  with 
which  she  could  perceive  the  vibrations  of  audible  bodies 
through  her  hands  or  even  her  feet.*     In  the  mornin^ 

in!h  "r  tT  '\  "":  '■"'  ^"  ''''  ^y  P""'"g  her  finger 
m  the  keyhole  of  a  door  beside  her  bed  and  "feding" 


•  Lt/e  and  Education  of  Laura  Bridgman,  by  Mrs.  Mary  Swift 
Lamson.  pp.  68-9.  75,  8S,    109.    in,    x^Z,    13S    209    260      Dr 
Kmo  describes  with  great   vividness  his  atost  tc^^^d    etibih^ 
to  th  se  genera    n«pression3  of  vibrations  on  the  organism       S^ 
the  chapter  on  Percussions  in  Th,  Lost  Sense. 


so 

the  vibrafi 


Fsyclwlogy. 


caused  by  the  other  girls  moving  about.* 
bhe  used  1„  r,nd  great  enjoyment  in  a  musical  box  by 

and  >hus  "feehng  „  ,,|..,.'t     she  even  seemed  to  take 

The  organism  in  general  is  thus  found  to  be  sensitive 
to  vbratory  movements ;  but  this  sensibility  is  n«mensely 
mcreased  by  be,ng  specialised  in  a  particular  organ 
d,rferen.,ated  for  this  function  from  the  rest  of  the 
organ,sm.  The  essential  part  of  this  special  organ  is 
evidently  the  internal  ear.     The  sensibility  of  the  audi- 

TiirT^'l"'''  '"'""^   hy  merely  a8it,iting  the  fluid 
wth  wh,ch  th,s  part  is  filled,   and  thus  throwing  into 

."  t^Tuid  Th""  "^"^-"'-^"s  which  are  suspended 
m  the  flu.d.  Thus  a  person,  deaf  to  all  ordinary  sounds, 
rany  be  made  to  feel,  not  merely  the  general  thrill  of  a 
vibratory  movement,  but  veritable  sensations  of  hearing 
by  v,bra,,ons  conveyed  to  the  labyrinth  from  the  bones 
of  the  head.  A  young  Scotch  lad,  named  Ja,  ,cs 
Mitchell  a  blind  deaf-mute  like  Laura  Bridgman 
sowed  m  h.s  childhood  •'  an  eager  desire  to  strike  upon 

wouldrr  r""'"^  ''  ^°""^  set  hold  of;  this  he 
would  do  for  hours,  and  seemed  particularly  gratiHed  i( 
■t  was  a  key,  or  any  instrument  that  gave  a  sharp  sound 
when  struck  against  his  tee<h."§  In  like  manner,  an 
ordmary  sound  may  be  intensified,  if  it  is  conveyed  to 


;f 


*  Ibid.^  p.  191, 
'^  Ibid.,  p.  331. 
X  Idid.,  p.  225. 

Hi '  l"T,o'',  ,f "",""?-^'f  P>'<>"'th  of,H,  Hu.^n  MinJ,  VoU 
"»•.  P-   319  (Hamilton's  edition)    whpr*.  an  «i„k      »  . 

Mitchell  will  be  found.  '^''^°'*^*  *"°""^  «' 


Tlie  special  Senses.  .j 

the  internal  ear,  not  only  by  the  ordinary  channel  of  the 
external  and  nn.ldle  ears,  but  by  vibn„i„ns  in  the  bone.s 
o  the  head.  1  l„,s  ,f  a  watch,  whose  tick  at  the  distance 
of  a  few  mches  may  be  scarcely  perceptible,  is  pressed 
against  the  ear  or  placed  between  the  teeth,  .he  move- 
ment  of  every  wheel  seems  to  become  audible.  Other 
fam.har  facts,  illustrating  this  intensification  of  sound 
will  readily  occur  to  any  one's  mind. 

But  the  ordinary  mode  in  which  'the  sensibility  of  the 
ear  i,  excited  is  by  vibrations  of  the  atmosphere  carried 

thriXrLti''"*'"' ''''''''  ^"^  '"^  '^""--'  -o 

(B)  A  sonorous  body  is  any  form  of  matter  which  is 
capable  of  exciting  atmospheric  vibrations.  This  nro 
perty  of  bodies,  as  well  as  the  collateral  property  of 
transmuting  atmospheric  vibrations,  forms  the  subject  of 
the  physical  science  of  Acoustic.  From  that  science,  as 
well  as  rem  the  theory  of  music,  the  student  of  psycho- 
logy  will  often  find  material  assistance  in  studying  the 
mental   phenomena  of   hearing.      Such   data  of  these 

will  be  noticed  m  their  proper  place;  but  the  student  is 
referred,  for  fuller  information,  to  the  most  important 
work  on  the  subject  in  modern  times,  Hehnholt.'s  Lchre 
von  den  Tonemffindungm* 

(C)  Sound  is  the  general  name  applied  to  all  sensa- 
..ons  of  hearing.  Like  other  sensations,  sounds  varv  in 
'«Wr,  the  intensity  of  a  sound  being  what  we  fanuliarly 
call  Its  comparative  loudness.      This  property  of  sounds 


52 


Psychology. 


i 

I 


depends  on  the  breadth  or  amph-tude  of  the  vibrations 
by  which  they  are  produced.      If  yoa  take  a  string  in  a 
musical  instrument  and  pull  it  to  one  side,  on  letting  it 
go  It  rebounds  to  the  opposite  side,  and  continues  to 
swing  for  a  while  with  a  gradually  decreasing  breadth  of 
movement.      It  will  be  observed  that  with  the  decrease 
in  the  breadth  of  the  movement  there  is  a  corresponding 
decrease  in  the  loudness  of  the  sound  produced.     This 
explains,  among  other  phenomena,  the  familiar  fact,  that 
a  sound,  proceeding  from  a  distant  body,  is  fainter  than 
when  produced  near  at  hand ;  for  the  sound-waves  in 
the  atmosphere,  like  the  waves  on  the  surface  of  water 
diminish  in  breadth  the  farther  they  travel. 

Besides  the  physical  condition  of  intensity,  there  is 
also  an  organic  condition.     It  depends  on  the  tension 
of  the  membrane  of  the  drum;  for  the  membrane  will 
evidently   be  agitated   less,  the  more  its  tension  is  in- 
creased.     Any  cause,  therefore,  like  yawning,  or  blowing 
the  nose,  which  increr    :s  the  tension  of  this  membrane 
deadens  sounds.     This  effect  is  specially  observable  on 
sounds  of  a  grave  character,  which  are  produced  by  Ion- 
slow  vibrations,  though  it  may  be  scarcely  noticed  in  the 
case  of  shrill  sounds,  that  is,  those  that  are  produced  by 
short  rapid  vibrations.     Now,  the  tension  of  the  mem- 
brane m   question    is  regulated   by  two  muscles,— the 
tensor  tympani  and  the  stapedius,~2.v,^,  by  the  sensi- 
bility residing  in  these  muscles,  we  must  feel  to  what 
extent  the  membrane  is  tightened  or  slackened,  before 
we  can  be  aware  of  the  intensity  of  a  sound.     In  being 
conscious,  therefore,  of  loudness  or  faintness,  it  would 
seem   that  muscular,  as  well  as  auditory,  sensibility  is 
called  into  play. 

While  sounds  vary  by  this  general  difference  of  in- 
tensity,  they  are  distinguishable*  into  two   classes   b, 


The  Special  Senses.  53 

another  very  marked   difTerence.      The  one  class   are 
called  ton(s  or  musical  sounds,  the  other,  noises  or  //«- 
;////«Va/ sounds.    The  former  are  produced  by  isochronous 
(equal-timed)  vibrations,  that  is,  by  vibrations  which  are 
equal  in  number  in  equal  times.     If,  for  example,  a  tone, 
produced  by  500  vibrations  in  a  second,  were  prolonged 
for  any  length  of  time,  it  would  continue,  during  every 
subsequent  second,  to  be  produced  by  precisely  the  same 
number  of  vibrations.    On  the  other  hand,  the  vibrations 
producing  a  noise  are  destitute  of  any  similar  periodicity. 
Now,  tones  vary,  not  only  in  the  general  property  of 
intensity,  but  in  a  special  property  termed  pitch.     There 
is  another  property  which  constitutes  a  difference  among 
tones.       It   is   commonly   called    quality,   but   on    its 
ultimate  analysis,  it  will  be  found  to  be  a  modification  of 
pitch.     These  two   properties  of  tones   we  shall  now 
examine. 

I.  The  pitch  of  a  tone  is  its  position  in  the  musical 
scale,  and  this   is  determined  by  the  rapidity  of  the 
vibrations    producing   it      The    more    numerous    the 
vibrations  caused  by  a  sonorous  body  in  a  given  time, 
the  higher  is  the  pitch  of  the  tone  produced.     Tones 
may,   therefore,   be  varied  in   pitch   by  an   insensible 
gradation,  so  that  they  are  not  separated  by  an  absolute 
distinction.     But  from  very  early  times  a  scale  has  been 
formed  in  which  different  tones  hold  a  fixed  position  in 
relation  to  one  another.     This  scale  starts  from  the  fact, 
that  there  is  an   easily  recognisable  interval  between 
tones,  when  one  results  from  twice  the  number  of  the 
vibrations  producing  the  other.     Such  an   interval   is 
called  an  octave,  because  the  tone  at  one  extreme  is 
eighth  from  the  other.     The  musical  scale,  therefore,  is 
composed  of  seven  tones,  which  repe?.t  themselves   in 
ever  ascendini?  nrfavps.      Th<»   ipfov^oir.   k^* ^l^ 


54 


Psychology, 


I 


several  parts  of  the  octave  are  not  all  the  same,  but  the 
nature  of  the  mterval  in  each  case  is  a  subje  t  which 
n,ust  be  left  for  the  theory  of  music.  The  larler 
imervals  are  called  tones;  the  smaller,  semi-tones;  but 
these  terms  want  precise  definition,  as  a  tone  is  not 
necessarily  equal  to  two  semi-tones.  except  in  instrument 
tuned  on  a  pecuhar  principle.  Some  people,  again,  like 
the  Arabs,  use  even  quarter-tones  in  their  music 

The  compass  of  the  ear's  sensibility  to  pitch  may  be 
ough  y  estnnated  as  extending  over  seven  octaves,  the 
lowest  tone  bemg  produced  by  about  40  vibrations  in  a 
second,  the  h,ghest  by  about  4000.     The  seven-octave 
pmno  goes  down  to  A  of  2^y,  vibrations,  and  on  larger 
organs  there  ,s  even  a  C  of  ,6%  vibrations;  bu,  wh^en 
these  low  notes  are  struck  by  themselves,  a  succession 
o    separate  pulses  ,s  heard  rather  than  a  single  tone 
These  notes  are.  accordingly,  used  always  in  combinai 
tion  with  notes  an  octave  above,  which  have  the  effect 
of  fusing  their  vibrations  into  one  tone.     In  the  ascend 
ing  scale  the  seven-octave  piano  stops  at  A  of  ,c2o 
vibrations;  but  notes  as  high  as  would  be  represented 
by  about  38,000  vibrations  in  a  second,  can  be  detected 
by  the  ear.  though  with  difficulty.     Such  higher  notes 
however,  are  too  painfully  shrill  to  be  of  use  for  musical 
purposes,  but  if  we  take  them  into  account,  the  compass 
of  the  ear  embraces  about  eleven  octaves 

2.  There  is  another  property  of  tones  commonly 
called  in  English  by  the  somewhat  indefinite  term 
quahty.  For  greater  definiteness  the  French  timbre  is 
occasionally  employed  for  quality,  and  some  recent 
writers  have  adopted  the  term  clang-tint  ^  a  translation 
of  the  German  klangfarb,.  By  quality  is  meant  the 
peculiarity  that  a  tone  receives  from  the  instrument  by 
which  It  IS  produced.     If  a  tone  of  a  certain  pitch 


The  Special  Senses.  „ 

and   fntensity  is   produced   by  several   ;„e. 

Th.s  d,fference  arises  par.ly  fro.  cfuses  ex.rinsic  To 

the  tone,  such  as  the  stroke  of  finsers  or   hi 

or  the  rush  of  wind      R,„  «ft       r  hammers, 

extrinsic  circumst::ces,  fhe  re  re^airr""?  '"  '"^'' 
li^rity,  intrinsic  to  the  tone  tse  f  TnH  h'.''  "'"  ^^''■ 
instrument  by  which  it  is  pr  d  e"  It  i  '^h"™  °'  "' 
Pecuiia.^^^^ 

-:::^rr:neran^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

be  detected  in  them,  not  only  a  nromiH' ,  /  '™ 
tone  which  gives  its  characteV  oThe  X  tt  ?"•'' 
of  fainter  tones   occupying  a   higher   nV  ''"^' 

musical  scale.      TheseVer-Lef  sLdTa"  Z.^^ 
rat,o,o  the  fundamental  tone,  the  first  be  ng  pro  "u'd 
by  twice  the  number  of  the  vihratinn.        j  P  °'''"^'^'' 
.one  the  second  by  thrice^r      "CZl  Z 
number,  and  so  on  by  an  uniformly  increas    g  mu  tip 
Now  there  are  a  few  tones,  like  that  of  a  tLTnSk 
vh,ch     0S3e33  an  apparent  simplicity,  though    hert," 
ground  for  quesfonmg  whether  even  these  are  absoll  v 
unaccompan,ed  by  over-tones;  but  the  rule  s  t^T   ^ 
exhibit  this  composite  charact;r      I   is  f  1!'     t        '' 

and    he  conclusion  has,  therefore,  been  drawn  tha    th  ' 

that  the  ,ua,ity^:;rn:  ^^^7^ ^1:^^ 
v.brat,o„s;  for  the  atmospheric  waves,  repre^^ing  ": 


5« 


Psychology. 


overtones,  must  modify  the  form  of  tl,« 

anting  ,he  fundamental  tone.  "'"  '"''^'•" 


all 


Is—Sight 

(A)  The   ^^,.«,  of  this  sen,e  can   be   more   easilv 
dcscn,,cd    than    ti,e  ear.      The  eye    is  a  ba  ^  n " 

chamber  like  the  plK,togr;,|,hers  camera  obscura     Th- 
o.y  aperture    by  .hich  ,i,ht  can  find  „.,„„•  ll  in,. 
1"^  chan,her,  ,s  the  ,,„pil,  which  shows  lilce  a  black    p 
"  consequence  of  the  intense  darkness  of  th        e  io 

>.s  darkness  ,s  owing  to  a  black  pig„,ent  in  the  it  rn  1 
linmg  of  the  eye:  otherwise  the  interior  is  perfeciK 
pervious  to  light,  being  filled  with  transparen  h.*  ^.  ^ 
Of  these  humours  the  most  in,portan  is  called  H,: 
cryMUne  /„„.  It  lies  directly  be'hind  the  u,  so  t 
.  refracts  every  ray  of  light  that  enters  the  eye  Bein 
a  convexo-conve.  lens,  it  brings  to  a  focus  he  ra,"  o°f 
■ght  radutmg  from  objects  in  front  of  the  pu,    'and 

°'  lh«  e,e.      I  his  coat  ,s  called  the  re//„a,  because  it  is 
_ma.r.ly  a  network  of  minute  fibres  from  the  o,  ic  1-  v 
■  hese    nerve-fibres   are  excited    by   the   ray     of     2 

onvergmg  upon  them,  and  visual  s;nsation  i    the  resu 
I.  remams  to  be  added  that  the  eye  is  supplied  lih 

n  elaborate  set  of  muscles,  which  impart  to  i   that 
reme  mobility  upon  which  the  charm  of  its  expressive 

1  tv  thuTrn/H  '".^°"-^-"-  °f  "-  -uscular'sen sib  . 
■ty  thus  added  to  Its  own  special  sensibility,  the  value  of 

(mV: "  "T",  "' 'r^'  ''  '--nsely'increas    . 
that  IS,  hght  cons,dered  as  a  physical  fact,  not  as  a  fact' 
of  consciousness      Physically  considered,  light  1  co 


ji  '•  I 


The  Special  Senses. 


oriRinal  or  reflected      In  th^  r  "■"  "  ^'"^^ 

•he  body  fro™  „„ieh  i   c.     esri""'  "  ">'""'"  '" 
and  in  terrestrial  bodies  atThK       '^''  "  '"  "'^  ^"" 

■-er  case,  the  bod;':;;:H",;t;;rrTo.b^"'^^ 

•>ody.  does  'not  ail    s  t^eT  ui    ',!  T '""'''''  ">'  " 
l»Jy  is  a  n,irror,  and  t he  "ir  or  is    '  7    ''•     "  "" 
not  itself,  but  the  ol,jec.    in  ,'"       ■''"'"'■  "  "=^=--'''' 
their  original  or  reflected     ,  It  '   kI  ^    i'n  7  °"  "  ' 
mirrors,  reflection  makes  the  r,n    f^T       'he  case  of 
In  order  to  visibility  1  b'd'.^K'"'  '"''^  f  ^'^  -«"- 
A  perfectly  transparent  su  Is  an        T'""  '^'^  °'^^^^"'- 
>vhich  fans  on  it  'to  paLTh:    ^ttS  :':  '^^  ''' 
eye;  so  that  it  fails  to  stimuh^e    'h,  ,  ^     "  '° ''^ 

retina,  and  no  vision  takes  place  ""'""^  "'  '"« 

of  lu'"'  "'""'"'"  "^'«'"  "-  '"-  of  Pn-  light  and 

=piat\-nSri:,7  ■■:    -~ess    ,„.  .^, 
certain  sense  be  said  tf  iJ  '   ^  "'""'  ""^'  '"  » 

posed  by  a  PHsn;i:to'  re:  zr:;;,::  '"■^^'  '^  '^™'"- 

'hcse  colours,  by  l,ei„.  ^^°  ,"'  "'"'e  spectrum ;  and 
sin^e  sensation  Jfir^^llt-.t^^-'^-e^.ain  the 

tone  and  depth.  ^  °^  '^'^  ^in^^s, 

1.  7l7//<f  is  the  name  given  tn  f!.«  ^    •.• 

on  .he  spectrum  or  rai'bo  "     i  ^.^2'°" ''" '°'°"' 
pass  throuoh  a  i,ri.,n   ,n^  ,        -""''eani  is  made  to 

ontoascr^en^rrr^^-rid'rt^t^^::^^- 
'-.barofvarie,a,edhues:rri:^S:,i; 


58 


Psychology. 


called  a  spectrum.     On  careful  observation  it  is  found 
that,  even  though  there  are  occasional  dark  lines  crossing 
the  bar,  its  hues  merge  im perceptibly  into  each  other; 
but  the  extreme  points  are  seen  to  be  occupied  by  a  line 
of  red  and  a  line  of  violet,  while  a  green  line  distinguishes 
the   centre.      Between    the    red   and    the    green    two 
prominent  types  of  colour  may  be  marked— an  orange 
and  a  yellow.     At  the  other  end  indigo  and  blue  lie 
between  the  violet  and  the  green.     The  spectrum  is, 
therefore,   commonly   divided   into    seven    pa-ts,— red,' 
orange,   yellow,   green,   blue,  indigo,  violet.      But   thj 
colours,    red,   green,   and   violet,    occupying   the   three 
most  prominent  places  on  the  spectrum,— its  centre  and 
its   two   extremities,— are    distinguished   by   the   name 
primary.     The   four   intermediate  colours,  orange  and 
yellow,   blue  and   indigo,  which  can  be  produced  by 
combinations     of    the     primary    colours,     are    called 
secondary. 

The  division  of  the  spectrum  Into  seven  tints  has,  not 
unnaturally,  led  to  some  ingenious  speculations  aiming 
at  the  establishment  of  an  analogy  between  the  so-called 
tones  of  colour  and  the  seven  tones  on  the  musical  scale. 
Whatever  success  may  ultimately  attend  speculations  of 
that  drift,  it  is  certain  that  even  yet  science  is  far  from  a 
fixed  definition  of  the   different  colours,  such  as   was 
reached  long  ago  in  the  distinction  ^i  musical  tones.    In 
recent   times,   indeed,  attempts  have   been    made    by 
physicists    to    establish    a   scientific    nomenclature    of 
colours  by  dividing  the  spectrum  into  definite  parts,  and 
assigning  a  specific  colour-name  to  each.  But  the  common 
names  of  colours  in  all  languages  are  applied  with  that 
vagueness  which  might  be  expected  from  the  fact,  that 
there  is  no  absolute  line  of  demarcation  between  the 
different  tints  on  the  spectrum.     This  vagueness  may  be 


by 


The  Special  Senses.  eg 

l"n  J'"  '°  ""    "■'='""''»"'='.  "''"t  colour-names   in 
general  see>„  ,o  have   been   originally  the  names  oi 
fam  l,ar  objects  wh.c',  naturally  display  certain  colours  • 
whUe  these  colours,  like  that  of  the  sea,  for  exampk.  a  e 
apt   under  va,.ous  natural  influences,  to  modify    heir 
tone  considerably  from  hour  to  hour,  from  day  to  day 
and  from  one  season  of  the  year  to  another.     The  coml 
mon  names  of  colours  must,  therefore,  be  interpreted  as 
cov  ^,ng  each  a  considerable  breadth  on  the  spectrum, 
and  as  apphcable,  in  consequence,  to  a  consMerabT^ 
vanety  of  tmts.      Accordingly,  i,  is  not  a  matter  for  sur! 
pnse  that  colour-names  should  occasionally  be  employed 
w.th  such  -aftude  thai  they  seem  to  be  tossed  at  random 
over  all  sort,  of  natural  phenomena.      This  want  "' 
exactness  m  the  des-r.anon  of  colours  forms  Te   ole 
plaustble  g  ound  for  a  recent  hypothesis,  that  the    el 
sibihty  to  differences  of  colour,  so  far  from  being  a  pol 
session  of  the  lower  animals  or  of  primitive  man  'hat 
been  developed  in  the  human  race  within  compara  ively 
ecent  t.mes  t    The  hypothesis,  however,  vanishes  £ 
fore  a  critical  exegesis  of  the  ancient  authors  in  light  of 

ion  o  th  ^'"  "^""^^-l--^  of  'he  imperceptible  ^ada- 
tion  of  the  coburs  on  the  spectrum,  their  names  must  be 
employed  with  a  considerable  latitude,  t 

•This  etymology!,  illustrated  at  leneth  in  Mr    r™n.   in     . 
Colmr-Simt.  than  xiii      R,„  ,1,    .1, '       •  '  *'!«"■ 

«-.^       I,         ^'  ' ""  """T "  P^'haps  too  sweeniiiBlv 

suted.      I.  seems  a„  aecepted  doctrine  among  philolocrtftb^ 

.he  attribnle  pri™ri,;tr™*::;:  L^' '""  ""  "  '°'°"  ^ 
+  See  Getger's  Zur  E»lwiMu„gsg„chu/,„  d«-  Mm^chluil  ii! 


iff 


Ill 


66 


Psychology. 


The  problem  of  the  diflerence  of  colour  presents  a 
physical  and  a  physiological,  as  well  as  a  psychological 
aspect,     {a)  So  far  as  it  concerns  physics,  the  problem 
IS  solved  by  an  application  of  the  physical  theory  of 
hght.      On  that  theory,  as   already  explained,  light  is 
conceived  to  be  the  vibration  of  an  ethereal  form  of  mat- 
ter diffused  throughout   space;  and  the  difference   of 
colours  is  conceived  as  due  to  the  varying  velocities  of 
the  ethereal  vibrations.     At  the  red  end  of  the  spectrum 
It  is   calculated   that   the   light-waves  amount  to  451 
billions  in  a  second,  while  with  increasin'r  velocity  they 
produce  the  other  colours,  till  they  attain  the  number  of 
785  billions  in  a  second  at  the  highest  limit  of  vision, 
where  the  violet  rays  appear,     {b)  The  problem  of  the 
physiologist  is  to  explain  the  effect  of  light  on  th  ■  organ 
of  vision  in  such  a  way  as  may  account  for  the  various 
sensations  of  colour.     Here,  however,  science  has  not 
yet  attained  the  general  agreement  which  prevails  in 
regard  to  the  physical  source  of  the  difference  in  colours. 
One  theory  maintains,  that  the  physiological  explanation 
of  this  difference  is  J.  be  found,  not  in  a  functional 
variation,  but  in  organic  structure.     The  conjecture  is, 
that  the  terminal  filaments  of  the  optic  nerve,  which  go 
to  form  the  retina,  are  of  three  kinds  at  least,  correspond- 
ing to  the  three  primary  colours,  and  that  each  set  of 
retinal   fibres  reacts  only    under  the  impulse  of   the 
colour-rays,  to  which  it  is  adapted.     This  theory  was 
suggested  long  ago  by  Young,  and  has  been  extensively 
adopted  in  recent  times,  especially  under  the  influence 
of  Helmholtz;    but    it   meets    with    opposition    from 
physiologists  so  eminent  as  Wundt.    The  psychologist 
must,    therefore,    wait    for    further    advance    in    the 
physiology  of  vision,  before  he  can  make  use  of  any  facts 
connected  with  the  organic  action  of  light  to  explain  the 


The  Special  Senses. 


6i 

difference  of  colours.  (.)  With  regard  to  the  psycho- 
logical  aspect  of  this  difference  more  will  be  said  in  the 
seciuel,  when  illustrating  the  function  which  colours 
perform  m  developing  our  mental  life.  Suffice  it  to 
observe  at  present  a  fact,  the  import  of  which  will  after- 
wards appear,  that  the  colours  at  the  red  end  of  the 
spectrum  belong  to  the  exciting  class  of  sensations, 
whereas  they  acquire  a  calmer  tone  as  we  pass  toward 
the  opposite  end. 

2    A  second   variation   of  colours  arises  from    their 
depth      It  ,s  unfortunate  that  the  term  intensity  has  been 
applied  to  the  depth  or  colours  ;  for  this  term,  as  already 
explamed   is  the  universally  recognised  technical  expres- 
s.on  for  the  force  with  whic'^  a  sensation  obtrudes  itself 
in   consciousness.     Like  all   sensations,   those   of  si^ht 
vary  m  intensity,  as  a  matter  of  course  ;  and  of  these 
vanat.ons    an     exact     measurement     is    atten^pted     in 
different  ways  by  means  of  the  various  instruments,  to 
which  the  name  photometer  is  applied.       But   what   is 
meant  by  depth  of  colour  is  that  peculiarity  which  is 
soniet.mes  expressed  by  speaking  of  one  tint  as  darker 
or  lighter  than  another     These  expressions  indicate  the 
source  of  this  peculiarity.     It  arises  from  colours  being 
diluted  with  pure  light  in  different  degrees.      Thus  a 
dark  blue  is  comparatively  undiluted,   while  a  lioht  blue 
IS  comparatively  diluted,  with  pure  or  white  light 

For  further  information  on  all  sub;ects  connected  with 
vision  the  student  is  referred  to  another  great  work  of 
Helmholtz,  Handbuch  der  P/iynologischen  Optik. 


69 


Psychology, 


CHAPTER  III. 


!    tW 


I 


THE  GENERAL  SENSES. 

npHE  various  forms  of  the  general  sensibility,  which 
X       have  been  named  in  an  earlier  chapter*  the  general 
senses,  were  there  distinguished  from  the  special  by  the  cir- 
cumstance, that  they  have  no  organs  specially  adapted  for 
the  production  of  their  sensations.     Their  organs   are 
simply  the  organs  of  the  body  in  general,  in  which  the 
ramifications  of  the  nerve-fibres  are  distributed      These 
organs  are  primarily  adapted  to  the  lower  functions  of 
animal  life  ;  but  in  subserving  these  functions  they  give 
rise  to  the  higher  function   of  sensation,  and  thereby 
become  organs  of  sense.     In  consequence  of  this  the 
classification  of  general  sensations  is  beset  by  a  difficulty 
which  IS  scarcely  felt  in  the  case  of  special  sensations 
It  IS  true,  as  was  shown  above  in  several  instances   the 
unscientific  consciousness   occasionally  confounds'  the 
sensations  of  different  special   senses;   but,   as  a  rule 
these  sensations  can  be  readily  distinguished  and  referred 
to  the  organs,   from  the  affections  of  which  they  arise 
It   IS   not   £0,   however,    with    the   general    sensations! 
They  are  often  so  obscure  in  their  nature,  that  they  can 
neither  be  clearly  distinguished   in  consciousness,    nor 
precisely  localised  in  the  organism.     This,  in  fact  is  no 
slight  cause  of  the  difficulty  a  physician  experiences  in 

•  Chapter L,  Si. 


The  General  Senses. 


<53 


forming   a  satisfactory  diagnosis  of  a  disease.      The 
sensations  of  disease  are  connected   mainly  with  the 
general  sensibility.     The  patient  commonly  feels  but  a 
vague  uneasiness,  which   he  is  unable  to  describe  or 
local.se;  and  fortunate  will  it  be,  if  he  does  not  mislead 
his   medical   adviser   by  an   illusory  description  of  its 
nature  and  locality.    In  consequence  of  the  characteristic 
vagueness  of  these  sensations  it  will  be  found  that  they 
possess  in  general  comparatively  little  value  as  sources  of 
knowledge;  ,t  is  as  sources  of  feeling-of  our  pleasures 
and  pams-that  they  are  most  obtrusive  in  consciousness 
In  the  -jbsence  of   that  clear  definition   which    is 
necessary  to  a  scientific  classification  of  the  general 
sensations,  we  must  perhaps  content  ourselves  with  a 
provisional  enumeration  of  their  principal  varieties.    But 
evenm  such  an  enumeration  we  must  be  guided  by  the 
principle  which  governs  the  classification  of  the  special 
sensations,-we  must  follow  the  distinction  of  the  bodily 
organs,  keeping  in  view  at  the  same  time  the  conscious 
distinction  of  the  sensations  excited.     For  the  purpose 
of  reducing  to  some  sort  of  order  the  complex  variety  of 
phenomena  to  be  enumerated,  it  may  be  convenient  to 
separate  them  into  two  groups.    For  some  of  the  general 
sensations  approach  more  nearly  the  character  of  special 
sensations,  inasmuch  as  they  arise  from  the  action  of  a 
particular  organ  or  set  of  organs.      Such,  for  example 
are  the  muscular  and  the  alimentary  sensations,  which  are 
excited  respectively  by  the  action  of  the  muscles  and  of 
the  alimentary  canal.     Others,  again,  like  the  sense  of 
temperature,  instead  of  being  limited  to  a  single  organ 
are  distributed   more  or  less  over  the  whole  sentient 
organism;    and  theje  may,   with  some   propriety    be 
regarded  as  general  sensations  in  the  most  restricted 
meaning  of  the  term. 


11 


I   I 


I'M   '  ), 


^4  Psychology, 

§  I.— General  Sensations  connected  mVi  one  Organ. 

Of  this  class  the  feelings  derived  from  the  exercise  of 
the  muscles  are,  in  many  respects,  by  far  the  most 
important;  the  muscular  sense  may,  in  fact,  claim  the 
rank  of  a  sixth  special  sense.  We  shall  accordingly  tre  a 
It  with  the  same  detail  as  the  special  senses. 

i. — T/ie  Muscular  Sense. 
In  earlier  times  this  form  of  sensibility  was   usually 
confounded  with  touch.     It  is  true  that,  as  far  back  as 
the  seventeenth  century,*  some  writers  had  recognised 
the  fact  that  certain  feelings,  such  as  weight,  con   nonly 
ascribed  to  touch,  must  be  due   to  a  totally  different 
sense;  yet  it  was  not  till  a  comparatively  recent  date 
that  the  distinction  of  muscular  sensibility  was  generally 
accepted  m  psychology. 

Even  at  the  present  day  there  is  considerable  variation 
of  opinion  among  physiologists  as  to  the  precise  nature 
of  the  organic  process  in  muscular  feeling.     The  various 
opinions  on   the  subject  may  be  convenientlv  ranged 
under  three  heads.     There  are  those  who  find    in  the 
nerve-fibres   that   are   imbedded    among   the   muscular 
tissues,  a  special  apparatus  of  sensation,  affording  a  suffi- 
cient physiological  explanation  of  the  feelings  of  muscular 
exertion.     Others,  again,  refuse  to  ascribe  any  indepen. 
dent  sensibility  to  the  muscles ;  and  they  explain  the 
feelings  excited  by  muscular  action  as  being  due  either 


A  history  of  the  discovery  of  this  sense  is  given  in  a  learned 

r  /  w"'r^  "t  ""^  ^'''  ^'"""  ''""^"""'  ^"  his  edition  of 

Iv    ?.''/•  ^^^'     ^°''  '""'•^  '''''''  ^°^^"»^«     ^  'he  subject 
^ee^^nmhsP/o'stohg^■scA,  Psychology,  vol.  i.,  pp.  3;6-8  (2nd  ed  ) 

F.'Mn">ii'"!.T    o"  f  ""f  ^'''"^''"'  «"  ''^^''^  ^y  G.  StanleJ 
li-ail,  in  Mttidiot  October,  1878.  ' 


The  General  Senses.  , 

to  a  peripheral  cause,  such  as  the  resulting  move„,ent  of 
he  sk  n  and  adjacent  tissues,  or  to  a  central  stimulus - 
^>e  st.mulus  of  the  brain  i„,p,ied  i„  volitional   effort 
Perhaps  a  complete  physiological  explanation  will  acen.' 
somethmg  from  each  o,  these  theories.    By  this  mod'o 
econc, l.ng  the  divergent   opintons,  a  distinct  organ  o 
sens,b,l,.y  ,s  recognised  in  the  structure  of  the  muscles 
while  It  ,s  admitted,  as  it  may  be  in  the  case  of  all  the 
senses,  that  sensations  excited  by  this  organ  may  be  as- 
socated  w,th  other  sensations  excited  at  the  same  ti.ne 
and  that  the  resulting  consciousness  may  be  a  fusion  ol 
various  co-ex.stent  sensations.     But  the  psychology   of 
muscuar  sensibility  is  not  called  to  decide  between  rival 
phys.olog,eal  theories  on  the  subject ;  it  postulates  as  its 
data  merely  certam  distinguishable  forms  of  sensation 
connected  with  the  action  of  the  muscles. 

(A)  The  special  ,r,.an,  then,  of  the  muscular  sense  is 
the  muscular  tissues.     These  are,  both  in  an  anatomical 
and  .n  a  psychological  point  of  view,  of  two  kinds.     In 
anatomical  structure,  some  are  distinguished  by  minute 
transverse  bars  or  stripes,  for  which  they  are  said  to.be 
slr,/,e^,   while  others  are  called   the  »«./„>rf  „,„,,e,es 
owmg  to   the  absence  of  this  feature.     Again    some 
muscles  are  under  the  control  of  the  will,  and  ar^  there! 
fore  named  r.^un^arj,  while  others  are  distinguished  as 
W««/«0.  m  consequence  of  their  being  beyond  the 
wi's  control.    Now,  .he  voluntary  muscles  are  all  stripfd 
and  the  unstnped  are  all  involuntary;  but  a  few  invln! 
tary  muscles,  such  as  those  of  the  heart,  are  striped. 

It  IS  the  voluntary  muscles  that  form  the  organ  of 
muscular  sensation  proper.  These  muscles  are  supplied 
both  with  afferent  and  with  efferent  nerves,  so  that  Z 
their  structure  they  exhibit  aU  the  features  Necessary  to 
an  organ  of  sense.  ^ 


66 


Psychology. 


til 


(B)  In  regard  to  th( 


by  wlii 


"^""y  "y  "I'lch  the  musculai 

sense  .s  excited,  it  differs  from  the  special  senses  in  their 

normal  action.      We   have  seen  that  these  senses  are 

usually  stimulated  by  forces  external  to  the  organism  ;  in 

the  case  of  the  muscles,  it  is  their  own  specific  act  on 

that  produces  their  sensations.     The  function,  to  which 

the  muscles  are  specially  adapted,  is  the  production  of 

mo  ,o„  ;  and  this  ihey  produce  by  the  peculiar  pr  "erj 

With  which  they  are  endowed.      This  property  is  cLied 

heir  con>raM,y.     It  is  a  peculiar  power 'of  shortening 

their  tissues,  so  as  to  pull  those  parts  of  the  organism  to 

which  they  are  attached.  ° 

(C)  M,ucular  sensations,  properly  so  called,  are  there- 
fore the  sensations  exciied  during  the  peculiar  action  of 
he  muscles;  and  the  term  is  not  to  be  understood  as 
mcluding  sensations  excited  by  any  condition  o  musclil 
tissue  besides  us  contraction.     In  this  restricted  se    e 
the  muscular  sensations  are  divisible  into  two  classes' 
comprehending   respectively  the  sensations    of  simple 
tension  and  those  of  motion.  '^ 

I.  The  former  class  includes  all  the  feelings  excited 
by  a  muscular  strain  that  does  not  pass  into  living  move 
ment,  -a  "  dead  strain,"  as  it  is  called.  Such  Liin.  s 
are  experienced  when  supporting  the  body,  especially  L 
an  upright  posture.  Other  examples  are  found  in  the 
support  of  an  external  weight,  or  in  the  effort  of  merely 
resisting  any  force,  as  weli  as  in  the  push  againsran 
msuperable  obstacle.  ^         "" 

J}^  K^"""  '''°"'',  "'''  <=°'"P'-«''«nds  the  sensations  ex- 
ctted  by  a  mtiscular  effort  which  results  in  movement 
The  only  marked  difference  among  this  class  of  sensa! 

produced.     The  sensations  of  rapid  movement  are  more 
excitmg,  while  those  of  slow  movement  belong  ,o  the 


The  General  Senses. 


in 


'^■dge;    and    the    same  U  '  t     T         °' ''""" 
sensations  of  a  dead  "Lin       TU  "^"'^'""^   "^« 

"'ovemen,    on    .he    ot  e^'h^'d     "r"""'  '^  "^''^ 

-•™u.a„t3ofree,in,,-ofo„.Strera„rpIr"''' 
It  remains  to  be  added  th.,  •  ^ 

mentthenmscularWt'o  l,'"  °'"  """"''  '^^^'"P" 
but  also  as  an  aid  .0  "  th  r  'scT'  T'V"  'T""' 
already  noticed  incidentally -bu  in  .h.  ^ ' '\''a^  ^e." 
perceptions  it  will  appear  m^e  , llv  h",t  '"/  °',  °"^ 
touching,  bu,  also  in  tasting  lldZll'  ""'  °"'^  '" 
hearing,  the  acmeness  of  percemion  i!  ^'  "!  ''""«  """^ 
byn,uscu,ar  activity  and  S  /^  ^^  "--"^ 
be  seen  that,  as  was  observed  before  7hl  ,  ^  .' 

organ  of  the  soul,  not  simply  as  , he  1st  re  •    "  "! 
externaMmpressions,   but^^o  r  ~ofTa^^^^^^^ 

11.— 735<f  Pulmonary  Sensibility, 

with  the  action  of  th;  lu^.s  Tht  V,  ^  'u  ~""''='^'' 
noticed  as  mingling  with  Xctnr  ''  '  ''''"  "''^"''^ 
icnown  as  /J  and  l!  f e"  ^  ""f""^  "  ''="  "^^ 
obtrude  their   normal   Z;  ^  '""«'  'i"  "°' 

::;;r:=r -'""•• -'^^^^^^^^^^^ 

any  cause  which,  by  increasing  thp  «„npi„  ^c  , 


(  I 


Hi  ,■!   ! 


I 


6S 


the  Ii 


Psychology, 


i 


s,  stimulates  the  respiration.     This  is  one  of  the 
effects  experienced  from  the  fall  of  the  thermometer;  and 
"  IS  partly  m  consequence  of  this,  that  the  breathing  of 
cool  air  is  felt  to  be  "  bracing,"  though  the  effect  of  cold 
on  all  the  bodily  tissues  must   not  be  overlooked   in 
explammg  the  general  feehng  of  exhilaration  described 
by  this  term.     A  similar  stimulation  is  felt  in  facing  a 
breeze,  m  passing  from  a  confined  atmosphere  to  the 
open  air,  or  in   brisk  muscular  exercise.      These  sen-^a- 
t.ons,  however,  cannot  from  their  very  nature,  be  limited 
to  the  lungs.      The  accelerated  oxidation  of  the  blood, 
with  which  they  are  associated,  stimulates  all  the  vital 
processes,  and  produces,  in  consequence,   a  feeling  of 
intensified  vitality  throughout  the  whole  animal  system, 

"  O  there  is  sweetness  in  the  mountain  air, 
And  life  which  bloated  ease  may  never  hope  to  share  I" 

On  thn  other  hand,  any  impediment  to  the  healthy 
action  of  the  lungs  produces  a  feeling  of  depression, 
which  diffuses  itself  rapidly  over  all  the  functions  of  life 
1  his  feeling  may  vary  in  all  degrees  from  the  compara- 
lively  mild  torpor  induced  by  breathing  a  somewhat 
vitiated  atmosphere  up  to  the  terrible  agony  of  suffocation. 

*"• — l^he  Alimentary  Sensibility. 

Another  group  of  sensations   to  be  noticed  in   thic 

section  are  those  connected  wich  the  alimentary  canal. 

I  here    is    a    great    variety    among    these    sensations 

corresponding,   partly,  to  the  different  regions  of  their 

organ,  partly  to  the  different  stages  in  the  process  of 

digestion,  which  is  its.  function.      Connected  with  the 

earliest   stages    of  this   process,    the    mastication    and 

salivation  of  food  in  the  mouth,  as  well  as  its  solution 

under  the  action  of  the  gastric  juice  in  the  stomach,  there 


The  General  Senses. 


those 


<% 


pleasant  sensations  of  relish    inrl  ,», 
pleasant,  sensations  of  nausea  or   ri         ""'',"'•" 
been  already  referred  to  rr  "^    ''   "'"'^"    ''"^^ 

with  tastes  and  1!  L  ^,  ^^  l°""-""'"  ^'"'-"•J^d 
".ance  of  its  func  ions  -^  7  '^'  ""'"U'eded  p.rf„r 
obtrude  itsdf  uno  '  -  ''""'^  '""="  ''°«  ""' 

definite  sen     ioTHeTh'°r""  '"  "^  '"""  "'  -> 
panied  with  1    eelin^o    c     f  ■'"™  '"'  '"'""•  '«^'=°"'- 

'hough  va.„e    bu   ,i  f    ,        "'  ""'"""'^  '""™"» 
fo'  vdj^ue,  Dut  this  feeling    s   evirlentlv  wirr      j 

On  the  other  hand,  ind|est  o 'gt? r  :n7r""- 

which  they  proceed,  but  Jwoi  teinr't"  '°'" 
confining  thcnselves  to  the  alinTen  y 'c La,  m"  ""' 
when  the  food  has  been  digested  andXr  edIhTrnt 

suffering  that  obhterates  the  sense  oft  "^^ 
iy.—TAe  Sensibility  of  Other  Organs 

.hJ;r;:rhttf  i"ef  r;  ^---"'-^  -«-^  °' 

and  veins,  are  sensitive    b';  1  ''«^™™'^' ">«  arteries 
.hey  are  the  sonrr"::  ^l^  ::^:;^ ^Ij^ 
concomitant  sensations  of  other  oreans  thlr  ,^ 
be  distinctly  defined,  or  their    enf.io'  '^  '"""'" 

similar  to  those  wh  ch  mav  hfr  !  ^^'^""^"y 

section.     The  onlv  Av^^r^f.- .-_  .,  «•"  "ic  nex? 

"""''  -"-i  -«"  is  cne  sensations  derived 


f  it 


(    (. 


;i.H 


70 


Psychology. 


i  fc 


n     f 


.M- 


from  the  distmclive  organs  of  the  sexes ;  and  these  sen. 
sations,  ,f  they  admitted  of  a  detailed  treatment,  mJ-rK. 
be  shown  to  form  a  very  important  factor  in  the  .'p'ra.lc 
ing  of  the  human  mind. 

§  2.— General  Sensations,  not  limited  to  Particttiu,- 

Organs, 

I        The  sensations  belonging  to  this  section  have  already 
been  described  as  peculiarly  deserving  to  be  styled  gen- 
eral sensations.     Besides  the  tact  that  they  cannot  be 
defined  by  their  association  with  separate  organs-per- 
haps  in  consequence  of  this  fact -they   possess,  in  a 
high  degree,  that  characteristic  vagueness  which   con. 
trasts  most  of  the  general  sensations  with  the  special 
1  his  renders  it  impossible,  in  the  present  state  of  psy- 
chology, to  attempt  anything  like  an  exact  or  exhaustive 
classification  of  these  sensations. 

I.  The  most  obtrusive  in  our  daily  consciousness  ap. 
pear  to  be  the  sensations  of  temperature      Animal  tis- 
sues,  hke  all  other  bodies,  are  subject  to  the  expansion 
and  contraction  which  result  from  the  rise  and  fall  of 
temperature;  and  it  has  been  supposed  that  this  action 
on   the    nervous    tissues    affords    a    suflScient    physio- 
logical explanation  of  the  feelings  of  heat  and  cold 
though  some  physiologists  have   held   that   the   sensi' 
bihty  is   duo   to   a   special   set   of  nerves.*      Whethe- 
the  sensibility  to  temperature  be,  as   this  theory  sup- 
poses, a  special  sense  or  not,  it  certainly  is  not  limited 
to  any  single  part  of  the  organism.      The  feeling  of 

•Recent  investigations  seem  to  show  that  this  sensibility  is  dis- 
nbuted  sporadically  over  the  skin,  different  spots  being  sensitive 
^  heat  and  cold.     See  On  the  Temper aiure-Seme,  by  Dr.  H.  H 
Donaldson,  iTiJ/iW  for  July  1885.  '•  "•  ii. 


The  General  Senses.  ^^ 

thus  associated  with    he  olan  of  ,  "r"""''  """«" 
.ha.  account  be  consi  e  ed  fac  ile    ZTtri  "°'  °" 
-0  kinds  of  sensation  who.,7d- tint.'  i"  Cj;  ^  t 
the  parts  which  are  most  sensitive  to  touch  arTnn' 
porfonally  sensitive  to   temperature       In  ?        ';™" 
wi.h  the  relation  of  touch  to  the  slTnse  of  temnraZ": 
somewhat  interesting  fact  may  be  mentioned  s!       ' 
a  part  of  the  skin  endowed  with  InZ,  "'°'^ 

;s  brought  into  contact  witt  ::i:rp:r::;:^; ^ ' 

and  th:td  ch  ,    ,  r- '  Tear  ^to'r'  T"'T^  '"' 
the  cooiness  of  the  hind,  whtrresl?!™  :  e;^ 
realise    the   temperature  of   the   brow       q^    .         , 
warmed  hand  is  often  applied  to  the  f^;.  w    n  Tu^erL: 
frorj  any  neuralgic  affection  which  is  relieved  by  he       ' 

be  described      "^^V"'"^™  ''""^  "'  sensations     iny 
oe  described  somewhat  indefinitely  as  due  tn  ,k  , 

or-^^jeast.  unusual  conditions  7^^ -ourbZly 

these^bnormar'  f^  ""'  ""  "''"''°"^'  «-'  ^-"""g 
Ihese  abnormal  conditions.    Some  organs,  like  the  bones 

and  ligaments,  never  affect  onr  ..;.,„•:...__' 

-    —   .,.^.,j.^^;_,y.,jj.jjj^^  except 


I  SI 


?ll 


<   :'    h 


72 


Psychology, 


under  such  unusual  influences  as  a  rupture,  a  fracture 
or  some  kind  of  internal  decajr.  The  muscles,  also,  are 
the  seat  of  many  painful  sensations  in  cases  of  laceration 
bruismg,  or  cramp.  The  condition  of  nerve-tissue,  in 
health,  can  scarcely  be  said  to  appear  m  consciousness, 
except,  perhaps,  m  a  vague  sense  of  general  well-beina  • 
but  one  of  the  most  unendurable  forms  of  acute  painis 
that  which  arises  from  a  diseased  state  of  some  nerve 
and  which  IS  therefore  appropriately  described  by  the 
name  of  neuralgia  {nerve-ache). 

Perhaps  the  sensations  of  fatigue   ought  to    be   In- 
cluded among  those  arising  from  an  injured  condition 
of  bodily  tissue ;  for  these  sensations  become  obtrusive 
m  consciousness  only  when  the  Kmit  of  health  is  being 
transgressed  in  the  action  of  any  organ.     These  sensa 
tions  may,  indeed,  in  earlier  stages,  assume  the  form  of 
a  mhd  lassitude,  which  is  just  sufficient  to  give  a  zest  to 
repose  ;  but  even  then  they  are  to  be  taken  as  a  warnincr 
that  the  action  of  the  fatigued  organ  cannot  be  con' 
tinned  with  impunity.     It  is  the  sensations  arising  from 
excessive  .ad  irksome  muscular  toil,  that  fill  the  cup  of 
daily  misery  in  the  life  of  the  overwrought  poor.     Bnt 
probably  the  most  intolerable  sensations  of  weariness 
are  those  which  have  their  origin  in  the  excessive  waste 
of  nerve-tissue  produced  by  prolonged  periods  of  sleep- 
lessness,  of  intense   emotional  .  excitement,    of  severe 
intellectual  labour,  or-what  is  still  worse-of  all  these 
combined. 

2.  The  abnormal  conditions  o  animal  tissue,  which 
are  thus  found  to  be  the  source  of  sensation,  may  be 
produced  by  the  application  of  various  substances. 
Power  ul  irritants,  like  peppers,  acids,  ammonia,  or 
alcohol,  have  been  already  referred  to  as  setting  up  an 
inflammatory  action  on  the  skin  and  other  parts  of  the 


Tke  General  Senses.  -- 

pot;.  ^.H*:  irrr  r  "-"^  - 

nerve  tissues.      The   term    L     •   \-        .  °"   *^« 

sensations  .ns;„g  r.o„  .he  actio'  o'oisonsBnt  .'h 
term  commonly  implies,  what  must  be  oblus  to  . 
.      observer,  that  the  influence  of  .h,l      u  ^""^ 

at  once  to  the  high  J  nerve  '„.-         '""''  '"^^""^ 
t-'e  most  startlinf  effect    unnnf',,'""^  °'''^''   '" 
I.  seems  .-^Possib^fhe^^or  ^eTIl^t^^^^^^ 
•nena  of  intellectual  and  emo,  onafeT  "^on  or  d 

demand  a  place  Th'".  ^  ""^  """^  """S""'^'" 
produces  a'we  tmaled^dT  r'T-'^'r  °'^'^''"'^"> 
Leyden  jar  startling  the  s^b^eef^n?'  "'  '''"'  '■™'"  " 
an  acute  shock,  „  J,e  the  VI 1  J  ^^^^^^^  -"' 
tmuous  thrill  of  wr^n^k-  current  pours  a  con- 

hand,  the  11"^^?  Tarri  .°"  ""^  °'-- 
nervous  system  is  by  no  Lans  w  ^1°;  t 
appears  on  y  when  thpr^  or.^  "  wen  marked.      It 

the  electricll  s^^e  T^:Z:SVT:^-:J; 

magnet  sm  as  dnrmo-  th.    ^  *         "    "^  earth's 

is  aL  -in-iieiory'  gr:r™rcr-''''''^''^^-  ^^ 

which  probablv  DsvcLv.f  consciousness,  with 

emotional  kind  a  et''°  ■'"??'  '"  '"''"^«"="  " 
effects  appear  "o  deoend  7  ''^•.  '^'"'°'''-  ■■'«»« 
ties  Of  neCs Tele  amen??  °"  '"'"'"'"^'  P-"'""' 
•he  form  of  an  in^S  el^vaZ  ToT  '''i '''" 
an   equally  inexplicable    dep  esTi™  '  V'^'"  ;^' °' 

chmate  like  that  Of  the  CanLiaHinteiXrll^S; 


i 

;1J 

€ 

ij 

iMh 

1 

H 


Psychology. 


dectncity  is  sometimes  developed  with  extraordinary 
power,  there  appear  to  be  no  definite  electrical  sensations 
experienced,  except  when  a  spark  is  drawn  by  the  touch 
sjk  a  conductor. 

^  Sinct  the  time  of  Mesmer  and  Von  Reichenbach  the 
influence  of  animal  electricity  and  magnetism  has  often 
been  connected  with  some  of  the  strangest  phenomena 
m  the  psychical  life  of  man ;  but  the  attempt  to  establish 
this  connection  raises  a  problem  which  can  be  con- 
venienUy  discussed  only  at  a  late,  stage. 


'^m        «'■ 


i 


t^ 


'^■'  iUL.-  <■  ■■i.■-^.sa■* 


7"Af  Mental  Proa. 


ises. 


75 


PART    II. 


THE  MENTAL  PROCESSES. 

^'"Plex  character     l^t   1  °"^"""'y  '"ey  are  of  a 
"'ental  phenomena,  descnbetTnl?  '""'"'"'"'^  "^ 
<h-s  Book,  are   not  found  fn   h   ,        ^"''"'""  ^"'  «f 
o^dina,y   consciousness?  the,  are""  ''"'"''''"  '"  °" 
;c.en.ific  aUtraction,-b;  anaLis     S"""!-  °"'^  "^ 
these  elements  into  co-emttn         ^''*'=°™ ""nation  of 
S"ies,  however  capri-iouT  ^'°'"^^  °'  "^"nsecutive 

ob-rver.i,fo„„d,^„  ;-;;  -y  see™   '<>  «  careless 

to  certain  dete.minate  processesThr.I, ^  ^'^'  '°  "'"^  ^"^ 
■nvanable  laws.  These  .ro  essel  l'  T  '""'"'"'  ^' 
Compar«on.    Tl-ey  form  tlT    ,  •  Association  and 

"•ey  lorm  the  subject  of  tb^s  p«t 


I'itt 


76 


Psychology, 


CHAPTER  I. 


li 


ASSOCIATION. 

nnO  undeistand  this  process  it  must  be  observed  that 
X       the  elements  of  mind  may  not  only  make  their  ap- 
pearance m  consciousness,  under  the  conditions  explained 
in  the  previous  Part,  but  may  re-appear  any  time  after 
generally  m  a  fainter  degree,  when  these  conditions  no 
longer  ex.st.     Such  a  re-appearance  of  any  mental  state 
IS  appropriately  named  a  representation,  while  its  original 
.-    *='arance  in  consciousness  is  ^2\\q^  2.  presefitation^    A 
•on   .r  state  of  mind  is  thus  represented  in  consciousness 
'  ^sequence  of  a  certain  relation  existing  between  it 
and  the   mental   state   immediately   preceding  the  re- 
presentation.    This   relation    is   technically   named   an 
association.     The  act,  by  which   the  preceding  mental 
state  evokes  a  representation,  is  called,  in  technical  as 
well  as  m  ordinary  language,  suggestion.     The  conditions 
und.^r  which  this  act  is  performed,  are  therefore  called 
the  Laws  of  Suggestion ;  but,  as  suggestion  is  founded 
on  an    association    between    the   suggr.Jn -    and  the 

*  This  revival  of  former  presentations  implies  of  course  that  ihe^y 
have  not  been  altogether  lost,  that  they  have  been  retained  in  son  e 
way  as  a  possession  of  the  n,ind.     In  the  present  state  of  sc  en  I 
such  retention  must  be  accepted  simply  as'a  fact,  though    ado 
hypotheses  have  been  proposed  to  account  foi  it 


Association. 


77 


suggested  states  of  mind,   these  laws    are  sometimes 
named  also  the  Laws  of  Association.      Of  theTe  Z 
o,ne  are  d,st,nguisl,ed  as  p,i..ry,  otl,ers  as  sZlTy 
I  he  difference  between  these  will  be  more  easily  com 
prehended  after  the  explanation  of  the  former  class. 

§  I.— Primary  Laws  cf  Suggestion. 
to  !wd!""  "'"'"'  ^™"'"'^^"^-'  'hese  laws  are  reducible 

I.  T/^  Law  of  Similarity  or  of  Direct  Remembrance  :- 

States  o(  mmd,  identical  In  nature,  though  differing 
>n  the  t„„e  of  their  occurrence,  are  capable  o°f 
suggesting  each  other. 

II.  The  Law  of  Contiguity  or  of  Lndirect  Remembrance  ■ 
-States  of  mind,  though  differing  i-  nature  if 
Identical  in  the  time  of  their  occurrence,  are  capa'ble 
ofsuggestmg  each  other. 

These-  two  laws  evidently  comprehend  all  possible 
cases  of  suggestion,  as  they  apply  both  to  phenomena 

natu  e.     The  first  law  requ.res  in  order  to  the  possibility 

b  tweeTthr'  •    """    '^    =■    "=""^="    ---«-« 

between  the  suggestmg  an    the  suggested  states  of  r.ind. 

Ihus,  when  I  hear  a  sound  which  I  recognise  as  the 
vo.ce  of  a  friend,  the  recognition  implies  thft  the  sound 
of  the  preser-  moment  suggests  to  me  the  sound  of  the 
voice  heard  before.  Now,  the  two  sounds  are  similar  in 
he,r  nature ;  they  dif^r  merely  in  the  time  of  their  occur" 
rence,  the  one  being  heard  now,  the  other  having  been 
heard  on  some  previous  occasion.  The  two  sounds  there- 
fore, fulfil  the  conditions  of  the  first  law.    But  the  act  of 

which  WParPcn«oLi>^   *U '■•  -  »c  aui  oi 

r^.-xng,  wic  icLognition  ol  a  sound  as  being 


I  fjk 


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a  faend  s  vo.ce,  implies  sometl,ing  more.  Not  only  does 
he  present  recall  the  for.ner  sound,  but  it  reealls  ..Iso 
the  fr,end  s  appearance,  wi(h  which  that  sound  is  associ- 
ated.  Now,  there  is  no  natural  resemblance  between  a 
i.i.in  s  visual  appearance  and  the  sound  of  his  voice ;  but 
'he  two  have,  by  hypothesis,  been  in  the  mind  at  the 
sametm,e.  They,  therefore,  fulfil  the  conditions  of  the 
law  of  cont,gu,ty,  and  the  one  is  thereby  capable  of  sug. 
gestmg  the  other.  ^ 

Such  is  the  general  purport  of  the  primary  laws  of  sug. 
gest.on      I  he  nomenclature,  by  which  they  are  distin- 
gu.shed,  can  scarcely  be  said  to  be  determined  amon<, 
l>sycholog,sts      The  names  Similarity  and  Contiguity  are 
those  adopted,  perhaps  most  commonly,  in  English  psy- 
chological l,te:.ture.     The  other  names.  Direct  and  In- 
direct   Remembrance,  were  given  to  the  laws   by  Sir 
Wham  Hamilton.*     Perhaps  they  were  suggested  by 
tie  expressions   ,W/«/.   ,„a    ,neJiaU   £rfrod.,cJ,, 
used  by  Herbart.  t     But  whatever  their  origin,  their  sigl 
mficance,  which  will  appear  in  subsequent  expositions 
h.s  been  unfortunately  overlooked  by  English  psycholo^ 
lopsts,      I  he  phrase,  intrmsic  and  extrinsic  associatum,  1 
"light  be  mtroduced  very  appropriately  to  distinguish 
associations  founded  on  an  intrinsic  resemblance  of  mental 


finUhea  ..y  Us  ..hor.  „„a  .hat\t  T^^'^^  ZZl 
fore  never  brought  into  complele  shape. 

j2rf'T''  ""'  '"'""'"'  '"t"''«c<ion  U,wr.,  v„,.  , 


*%..  - 


Association. 

detailed  exposition     Wk  ""^  "''''""■^^  ="  '""'•'-• 

.ion,  which  were  supped  Told  /?""  °'  "*'«"• 
dependent  laws,  bufw^lll"  "te'^h  wn"?'!  '°  '^  '"• 
resultants  of  the  two  more  general  Us,  ,  '  '"""^ 
tioa  St-nerai  laws  under  considera- 

fact  that  things  a  eTot^o  '""'  '"'"""^  "^''"  "'« 

have  been  asstciat^d  i'n  Ice^'Tn^d  T  T'"'  '  '"^'^ 
or  suggestion  was  noticed'evl'  y"  h  ''::::t:t  i"^  ""'^ 
Among  the  multitude  of  nhenompnln  '""''''■'• 

principle  there  are  two  whicl"n2  """'"  "'  ""'^ 

I-  Local   Associationtte'     rb?^"l '"'""'• 
states  seem  to  be  most  ea^ill  '^  "'""-'''  "'•'""'' 

therefore  the,  sugg^e^t  .eTrS  T !"'  ""'" 
ness.  The  reason  of  this  w.l  h!  ^  '  '"  ''"'''■ 
Here  it  „,ay  be  observed  tha  the  '°""'"'^''  "6'""- 
knowledge,  which  we  acquire  „'!„'''''  """'^  "^  '"« 
.he  senses,  especially  thro  .h  t  e;se  7"  l''""^'' 
the  idea  which  we  form  nf  .n    i         •  ""^  ^**">  »"<! 

easiest  transition   between   mil  '  "''''   ^'^"'  ^'^^ 

when  the,  have  such  t      al^^a     n  a^L  f  °"''   °^^"^ 
one  visual  picture.  '^  ^^'"^  P'^^'s  of 

On  this  account  local  assor;flf;r.n  r 
power  of  suggestion   j„^''^.''f  °"/«r"is  a  predominant 
^-uggestion   m    minds   that    h^^,.    ^^.    l 

— »^    wui    ueen 


8o 


Psychology. 


!  ' 


!'■ 


disciplined  to  methodical  habits  of  thinking  ;•  and  even 
in  men  of  cultured  intelligence  the  train  of  thought  is 
directed  along  this  line,  when  mental  discipline  is 
relaxed  under  the  indolence  of  reverie,  or  the  general 
decay  of  old  age.  Then  a  simple  story  cannot  be  told 
without  introducing  a  number  of  circumstances,  which 
have  only  a  local  connection  with  it,  and  by  which, 
accordingly,  its  point  is  often  concealed,  and  its  interest 
flags.  It  has  been  mentioned  as  an  indication  of  the 
genius  of  Shakespeare,  that  he  guides  the  talk  of 
uneducated  characters  along  the  track  of  local  associa- 
tions. "Thou  didst  swear  to  me,"  says  the  Hostess  in 
Henry  the  Fourth*  upon  a  parcel-gilt  goblet,  sitting  in 
my  Dolphin-chamber,  at  the  round  table,  by  a  sea-coal 
fire,  on  Wednesday,  in  Whitsun'  week,  when  the  Prince 
broke  thy  head,"  etc. 

In  consequence  of  the  readiness  with  which  thoughts 
are  suggested  by  local  association,  it  has  been  made  the 
basis  of  many  systems  and  artifices  for  aiding  the  memory. 
Mnemonic  systems  of  various  plans  have  been  invented 
since  the  time  of  Simonides,  in  the  sixth  century  b.c.  ; 
but  their  ingenuity  has  generally  been  too  artificial  to 
render  them  of  much  service.  Still  there  are  several 
simple  expedients  by  which  local  contiguity  maybe  used 
to  make  recollection  easier.  Of  these  the  most  familiar 
and  the  most  useful  are  tabular  views  and  genealogical 
trees.  Thus  an  elaborate  classification,  which  could  be 
mastered  only  with  great  labour  and,  perhaps,  uncertainty, 
if  we  depended  entirely  on  the  relations  of  resemblance 


*  Apparently  associations  of  locality  are  strong  also  among  some 
of  the  lower  animals,  at  least  in  the  domestic  state,  such  as  the 
horse,  the  dog,  and  the  carrier-pigeon, 

t  Part  ii.,  Act  ii.,  Scene  i. 


Association,  gj 

mem^r''"!'K '"'"''"  "'  P"'''  """^  *"=  ^""-"ix-d  to 
memory  with  co„,para.,ve  ease  by  arranging  them  in  a 
tabular  v,ew,  that  ,s.  by  placing  th.m  in  local  association 
With  one  another.* 

II.  Another  fact  to  be  observed  in  connection  with 
h,s  power  of  suggestion  is,  that  a  place  may  recall.      t 
only  another  place  or  a  material  object  in  its  neighbour- 
hood  but  also  any  thought  or  emotion  which  has  been 
xper,e„ced   there.      It    is    by   such   associations   tha 
ocahttes  come  to  wield  such  an  influence  over  the  feel- 
ngs  and  the  actions  of  men.     In  all  settled  communities 
the  power  of  "home,"  especially  over  the  inner  life  of 
-d.v,dua  s.  has  become  a  familiar  theme  for  literature 
But  an  mfiuence  of  wider  sweep  is  acquired  by  places  thai 
h  ve  become  associated  with  the  lives  of  great  men  or 
with    great   events   m   the    history   of  the   world.      It 


«n  t,m«       -When  ,h,„g,  ,„  ^  ren.embered  are  so  placed   that 

and  eirect,  >n  leading  ihe  memory  from  one  to  another,  the  task  of 
^collecuon  may  be  performed  with  proportional  ease  "  (Fer.    oj 
'^•""""■f  \":'"  "•'•"'""'""  Scice,  Part  i.,  Chap  er  ii!  §6) 

.a..„    e.,am   praecpua    vige.   in    artificiali   memoria)  j„,a,    Me! 
u.or,am»    (Bacon,    No..,.,     o,-ga„c,..    ii.,    .6).       "Vui      hoc 

ammrs    efSn.;    nostns,    quae    essent  a   sensu   tradita    alque  im- 

vZdi  .Tjrr.r''"'  =^  ""-'^"^  "-"^  --i"-  --"s : 

vjuencii ,  quare  facillime  ammo  teneri  oosse  m   n„n«  ..^    • 
auribasaut  .ogitatione.  si  e.ia,„  oculoZ  comrerdaZe":,™!' 
iradcrentur"  (Cicero,  ZJ<  Ora/»~    ii     87I       Thur  ? 

ascribed  do„b,r„„y  .0  Simonides,'is''coSLed^t^rtdi,:7;(r: 
we„d<„ow„  beautiful  myth  in  the  poefs  life.     See  a,so  Q„  nc^an 

1  „^r,  '^z  I  """^  .<'«^"«' '"-'---  -  given  of  th; 

i„p....„  memuijr     basea  on  locai  association. 


82 


Psychology. 


\  I 


fi^ 


;!'    ai 


IS    an    often-quoted    saying  of  Johnson's,   that   "that 
man  is  lutle  to  be  envied  whose  patriotisn,  would  not 
gam  f ,.  .e  upon  the  plain  of  Marathon,  or  whose  piety 
would  not  grow  warmer  among  the  ruins  of  lona  "  ♦     It 
ni',  w ''f,!  '"?'  '°  An,ericans  the  charm  of  travel  in  .he 
Old  World.     It  ,s  thus  that  the  church  or  temple,-.he 
bmldmg  or   locality,-set  apart   for   worship,    becomes 
assoaated  m  the  devout  mind  «ith  the  purest  thoughts 
and  the  highest  aspirations  of  his  life,  so  that  it  grows 
suggestive  to  him  of  a  sacredness  which  can  be  afbest 
but  clumsily  symbolised  in  any  ritual  of  consecration. 
Any  locality,  which  has  taken  a  position  in  the  histo,    of 
a  good  man,  becomes  powerful  to  stimulate  aspirations 
afer  the  sa,otlme,ss  of  his  life;    and  this  imparts   its 
religious  significance  and  justification  to  the  practice  of 
makmg  pilgrimages  to  the  shrines  of  saints.      The  great 
series  of  events,  known  by  the  name  of  the  Crusades,  in 
which  the  conflict  of  Christendom  and  Islam  found  its 
most  vivid  and  enlhusiastic  expression,  forms  a  suiking 
example  of  the  part  which  local  associations  have  played 
m  directing  even  the  grander  movements  of  the  world's 
hhstory. 

Such  are  a  {^^  illustrations  of  this  suggestive  force  :  it 
remains  for  us   now  to  analyse  it  into  the  two   more 
general  laws  of  Direct  and  Indirect  Remembrance      In 
order   to   do   this   it    must    be   observed   that,   in    all 
cases   of  suggestion    by    local   contiguity,    there    must 
'^ave    been    a    cognition,    whether    a   presentation    or 
representation,  of  some   locality,   and  co-existing   with 
It    in    consciousness,    there    must    have    been    either 
a   cognition    of  something   in   the   neighbourhood,    o, 


» 


journey  to  the  Hebrides. 


Association. 


ii 


"Pon  which  the  law  cf  TnH  .  ^  "'  "'^  condhions 
however    differenT  i  '      Remembrance  depends : 

cognition  otocJL'r/'''  7'  "^  '">""  "^^ 
'h-^  of  their  occur  „'\  ""'u'""  *°™  ''  '"  '"« 
^bsequently  preset  ed  or  '  "'"'"  '"*  '°^^''"'    ' 

cognitln    I    Wen.   :'   i    "P7^^"'^<^' ""'^  -l-.u^nt 

cognition,  differing  ^0™  il  on  ;  rthetme  o^  i,r """' 
rence,  so  thar  fK*.  lof  •  •  ^  °^  '^^  occur- 

the  h'w  o/'C^^renTar  ^™  '"'=  -'""  "^ 

The  combined  operation  of  th^   * 
"■u-rated    by    the    foul," /'a   lam"  L'"^  ^l   I' 
symbolises  an  earher  cognition  t^;;;,,",  ''^'fj- 
sequent  cognition  of  the  san     •  while  AS  !?       k  ,  , 
mental  states  associated  with    hlformer         '■  "       ^°' 
the  arrows  point  in  the  lin,  ^f  cognition,  and 

fmm  in  the  line  of  suggestion.    The  diagram 


Law  o^  Contiguity. 


Fi 


states  are  recalled' by  UdS"'  '"""'"''  "  '"^'"^' 
only  indirectly  or  media    .„t"!  .".'..""r^'^'-''^^'^-  ^u. 

""-•    V  — w  i^ivv  01  uontiguity. 


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Psychology, 


I 


u. — Suggestion  by  Resemblance, 

This  force  of  suggestion  is  scarcely  less  obvious  than 
the  preceding,  and  has  therefore  been  long  familiar  to 
students  of  the  mental  processes.  It  is  not,  however,  so 
readily  suggestive  as  local  associations,  and,  accordingly, 
is  not  so  characteristic  of  vulgar  minds.  On  the  contrary, 
its  presence,  as  a  powerful  and  frequent  energy  in 
determining  the  course  of  thought,  is  one  of  the  most 
obvious  evidences  of  intellectual  culture.  The  more 
cultivated  intellects  may  be  roughly  distinguished  into 
two  groups  as  the  scientific  or  philosophical,  and  the 
poetical  or  artistic ;  in  both  an  essential  factor  of  their 
superiority  is  the  prominent  part  that  is  played  by 
suggestions  based  on  resemblance.  It  is  by  this  power 
that  the  scientific  mind  ascends  to  ever  higher  generalisa- 
tions, foi  a  new  generalisation  is  a  connection  of  pheno- 
mena by  resemblances  which  had  not  operated  as  links 
of  suggestion  before.  It  is  by  the  same  power  that  the 
poetic  imagination  embodies  the  abstract  in  the  concrete, 
the  spiritual  in  the  material.  When  Newton,  according 
to  the  familiar  story,  saw  in  the  fall  of  an  apple  a 
manifestation  of  the  force  by  which  the  planets  are  kept 
in  their  orbits  round  the  sun,  a  resemblance,  previously 
undiscovered,  between  terrestrial  and  celestial  motions 
suggested  itself  to  his  mind.  So  when  Troilus  describes 
the  relation  of  a  lover  to  the  object  of  his  passion  as  being 
like  that  of  "  earth  to  the  centre,"  when  Cressida  more 
explicitly  asserts  that — 

**  The  strong  base  and  building  of  my  love 
Is  as  the  very  centre  of  the  earth. 
Drawing  all  things  to  it,"* 


*  Troilus  and  Cressida,  Act  iv.,  Sc.  a. 


Association. 


85 


we  have  a  fine  expression  of  the  close  approximation 
between  the  scientific  classification  of  similar  processes 
and  the  poetical  illustration  of  the  spiritual  by  the 
material,  of  obscure  phenomena  by  those  that  may  be 
clearly  pictured  to  the  imagination. 

But  it  is  not  in  minds  of  the  higher  order  alone  that 
resemblance  is  suggestive.  It  is  this  that  enables  the 
ordinary  mind  to  perform  such  a  common  act  as  the 
recognition  of  a  portrait  by  its  resemblance  to  the 
person  portrayed.  But,  in  fact,  without  this  power  of 
suggestion  even  the  simplest  acts  of  intelligence  vvor'd 
be  impossible.  When,  for  example,  in  any  dish  at  table, 
I  perceive  a  peculiar  flavour,  like  that  of  peach  or  lemon 
or  strawberry,  the  perception  implies  that  some  previous 
taste  of  the  same  nature  is  suggested  to  my  mind,  and 
recognised  as  being  identical  with  the  taste  at  present 
experienced. 

To  see  that  this  suggestive  force  results  from  the  two 
general  laws,  it  rrust  be  observed  that  resemblance 
implies,  not  absolute  identity,  but  merely  identity  in 
some  feature  or  features,  along  with  any  degree  of 
difference  in  others.  Thus  the  resemblance,  on  the 
ground  of  which  quadrupeds  are  classed  in  one  group,  is 
founded  merely  on  the  one  feature  of  four  footedness, 
while  it  admits  all  such  variations,  in  size  and  other 
properties,  as,  for  example,  between  the  elephant  and  the 
mouse.  Now,  the  cognition  of  four-footedness  in  the 
elephant,  and  the  cognition  of  the  same  attribute  in  the 
mouse  or  any  other  quadruped,  are  mental  acts  identical 
in  their  nature,  though  differing  in  the  time  of  their 
occurrence  ;  and  they  fulfil,  therefore,  the  conditions  ot 
the  Law  of  Similarity.  But  this  cognition  co-existed,  in 
the  one  case,  with  the  cognition  of  the  distinctive 
properties  of  the  elephant,  in  the  other,  with  the  cogni- 


86 


Psychology. 


tion  of  the  distinctive  properties  of  the  mouse  or  some 
other  quadruped,  fulfilling  thus  the  conditions  of  the  Law 
of  Contiguity.  We  can,  therefore,  understand  why  the 
cognition  of  four-footedness  in  one  case  should  suggest, 
(i)  by  the  Law  of  Similarity,  some  previous  cognition  of 
the  same  attribute,  (2),  by  the  Law  of  Contiguity,  the 
associated  cognition  of  the  other  attributes. 


I 


I 


I    ,  ! 


ill. — Suggestion  by  Contrast. 

The  suggestion  of  one  contrasted  object  by  another 
has  struck  all  observers.  The  sketches  of  the  mental 
life  of  man  in  general  literature  often  imply  a  tendency 
in  present  happiness  to  recall  former  suffering. 


"  Forsan  et  haec  oHm  meminisse  juvabit. 


»»• 


Present  misery  s.ems  likewise  suggestive  of  joys  that 
are  past : — 


« 


There  is  no  greater  sorrow 

Than  to  be  mindful  of  the  happy  time 
In  misery,"  t 

A  very  slight  attention  to  the  course  of  private  medita- 
tions or  of  social  talk  will  soon  disclose  numerous 
instances  in  which  one  subject  suggests  another  by  way 


•  AeneiJ,  i.,  203.    Compare  King  Richard  xl.  Act  iii.,  Sc.  4  :— 


'—Joy,  being  altogether  wanting, 
It  doth  remember  me  the  more  of 


sorrow. 


t  Dante's  Inferno,  v..  121-3  (Longfellow's  Translation).     Com- 
pare  Tennyson's  Locksley  Hall:— 
" This  is  truth  the  poet  sings, 

That  a  sorrow's  crown  of  sorrow  is  remembering  happier  things." 


Association, 


87 


of  contrast;  so  that  the  thoughts  run  readily  between 
such  opposites  as  heat  and  cold,  joy  and  sorrow,  great- 
ness and  httleness,  virtue  and  vice.     It  may  be  added 
that  the  advance  of  culture   tends   to  give  increasing 
power  to  this  principle  of  suggestion  in  directing  the  cur- 
rent of  a  man's  thoughts.    For  accurate  thinking  requires 
not  only  that  objects  be  identified  with  those  which  they 
resemble,  but  often  also  that  they  be  clearly  distinguished 
from  those  which  are  different.     Accordingly,  the  culti- 
vation of  scientific  habits  tends  to  make  objects  sugges- 
tive of  others  with  which  they  stand  in  contrast. 
^  This  law  of  suggestion  had,  therefore,  attracted  atten- 
tion among  psychologists,   so  long  ago  at  least  as  the 
time  of  Aristotle,  and  it  seems,  by  him  as  well  as  by 
some  later  writer^  to  have  been  considered  a  special 
power,  mcapable  of  being  resolved  into  any  other.     Some 
modern  psychologists,  indeed,  seem  to  have  thought  that 
m  respect  of  association  by  the  two  opposite  principles 
of  resemblance  and  contrast,  the  world  of  mind  affords 
a  parallel  to  the  world  of  matter,  in  which  there  are  the 
two  antagonistic  forces  of  attraction  and  repulsion.     But 
It   IS   unnecessary  to   postulate   any  such    independent 
power,  If  It  can  be  shown  to  be  merely  another  resultant 
of  the  two  laws  of  Similarity  and  Contiguity. 

To  explain  this  analysis  it  must  be  observed  that    as 
resemblance  implies  some  contrast,  so  contrast  implies 
some  resemblance.      Two  things  cannot  be  contrasted, 
except  m  reference  to  some  com.ion  feature,  in  which 
they  exhibit  opposite  extremes.     Giant  and  dwarf,  for 
example,  occupy  the  extremes  of  excess  and  defect  in  the 
common  property  of  stature,   virtue  and   vice   are  the 
opposite  extremes  of  moral  character,  heat  and  cold  the 
opposite  extremes  of  temperature.     But  there  is  no  con- 
trast between  giant  and  virtue,  between  vice  and  cold 


m 


88 


n 


Psychology. 


This  is  the  fact  which  the  logicians  express  in  the 
doctrine,  that  there  is  no  logical  opposition  between 
propositions,  unless  they  have  the  same  subject  and  the 
same  predicate.  Suggestion  by  contrast  is,  therefore, 
capable  of  explanation  in  the  same  way  as  suggestiot:*  by 
resemblance.  The  cognition  of  the  common  proi)erty, 
on  which  the  contrast  is  based,  in  one  extreme,'  and  the 
cognition  of  it  in  the  other,  are  mutually  suggestive  by 
the  Law  of  Similarity,  while  the  distinctive  characteristics 
of  each  extreme  are  suggestible  by  the  law  of  Contiguiiy. 


„'  I. 


iv. — Suggestion  by  Relativity, 

The  relation  of  cause  and  effect  is  often  referred  to 
as  forming  a  bond  of  connection  between  our  thoughts  ; 
but  other  relations,  such  as  those  of  parent  and  child, 
teacher  and  pupil,  author  and  production,  are  also 
operative  in  the  same  way.  Yet  before  a  relative  can 
suggest  its  correlate,  the  two  must  have  been  previously 
known  to  be  mutually  related.  Now,  to  say  that  the 
mutual  relation  of  the  two  must  have  been  previously 
known,  implies  that  they  must  have  been  in  our 
consciousness  at  the  same  time,  and  have  thereby  fulfilled 
the  conditions  of  the  Law  of  Contiguif  Accordin^^ly, 
when  any  relative  term  occurs  to  the  a..nd  a  second  or 
subsequent  time,  it  may,  by  the  Law  of  Similarity,  recall 
its  previous  appearance  in  consciousness,  and  this,  by  the 
Law  of  Contiguity,  will  recall  the  correlate  with  which 
it  was  associated. 


§  2 . — Secondary  Laws  of  Suggestion, 

There  are  some  phenomena  of  suggestion  which  are 
mexplicable  by  the  primary  laws  alone,  which  therefore 
imply   the   operation   of  another    set   of  laws.     These 


1  i 


Association. 


89 


phenomena  are  connected  „i,h  the  comi^ex  character  of 
.he  n,en,a  states  which  make  up  the  course  of  ou' 
conscious  hfe.    For  that  course  is  not  to  be  conceived  as 

:,rur;afr"  ""t  ""^  """^^^ '"«« °f  conscious;:' 

inks.  On  the  contrary,  our  conscious  life  is  a  complex 
ser,es  of  successive  clusters  of  mental  states,  in  which  the 
rnembers  of  each  cluster  hold  more  or  less  compl  cated 
relations  w.th  one  another,  as  well  as  with  the  members 
of  the  immediately  contiguous  clusters.  In  .hi,  fact  there 
are  mvolved  two  problems  connected  with  suggestion 

I.  Among  the  mental  states  which  compose  the 
consciousness  of  each  moment,  any  one  m,y  suggest  or 
several  may  combine  in  suggesting,  the  mental  So 
he  next  moment.  Now.  since  all  the  mental  states  of 
the  present  do  not  operate  equally  in  suggesting  those 
ha  immediately  follow,  the  question  arist,  whft  is  it 
that  makes  some  of  them  more  suggestive  than  the  rest 

2.  But  of  the  Slates  which  form  the  consciousness  at 
any  moment  each  is  capable  of  suggesting,  not  merely 
one  other  state,  but  usually  a  nuu.be,  "o'ften  a  We 
number,  of  other  states.  It  is  impossible,  for  example 
to  enumerate  all  the  thoughts  which  migh  be  su.-gested 
to  the  mind  o,  an  educated  Englishman  by  the  ttuht 

alv  t  T"'!'     "  "''^'"  '"SSes.  any  of  his  dramas,  or 
any  of  the  characters  in   these,    or  any  of  the  oth.r 
Eizabethan  dramatists,  or  any  of  his  editors  or  comm.n' 
tators.  besides  a  multitude  of  other  subjects.     In  like 
manner  a  vast  range  of  subjects  .-.re  associated  in  ,h: 
mmds  of  educated  men  with  the  name  of  any  gZ 
author  ,n  the  world's  literature.     But  all  such  assocLjd 
thoughts  are  never  in  any  case  actually  suggested:  on 
the  contrary,  as  a  rule,  only  o.,e  or  a  very  fefever  make 
their  appearance  in  consciousness   What,  then,  determines 


\i 


III 


90 


Psychology. 


this  selection  of  the  thoughts  that  are  actually  suggested 
among  a  multitude  that  are  capable  of  being  suggested? 
These  are  the  two  problems  which  find  their  solution 
in    the   Secondnry   Laws  of  Suggestion.     The   Primary 
Laws  describe  the  relations  that  are  required  to  make 
one  mental  state  capable  of  suggesting  another.     But 
they  do  not  explain  why  it  is  that,  when  several  states 
are  capable  of  suggesting,  and  several  capable  of  bemg 
suggested,  some  of  them  suggest,  and  some  are  suggested, 
more  easily  than  others.     The  explanation  of  this  is  to 
be  sought  in  the  Secondary  Laws ;  and  these  may  there- 
fore  be   described   as   the   laws   which   determine   the 
comparative  suggestiveness  and  suggestibility  of  mental 
states.     They  may  be  brought  under  three  heads,  inas- 
much as  they  ^refer  to  suggestiveness,  or  to  suggestibility, 
or  to  mutual  suggestiveness  and  suggestibility. 


i. — Law  of  Suggestiveness. 

Stf.tes  of  mind  are  more  suggestive  in  proportion  to 
their  intensity  and  to  the  number  of  them  that  com- 
bine in  suggesting. 

This  law  consists  of  two  parts.  The  first  expresses  the 
fact  that,  in  the  cluster  of  mental  states  composing  our 
present  consciousness,  any  one  may,  by  superior  intensity, 
become  more  powerful  to  suggest  the  thoughts  of  the 
next  moment.  The  second  part  of  the  law  implies,  that 
a  mental  state  of  the  present  moment  acquires  more 
suggestive  power,  if  its  suggestions  are  aided  by  other 
present  states.    Each  of  these  facts  demands  explanation. 

(A)  The  first  part  of  the  law  is  of  incalculable 
importance  in  intellectual  life.  Without  it  all  study 
would  be  impossible.  'Ihe  mental  attitude  called  study 
is  the  concentration  of  consciousness  on  some  object  to 


Association.  gj 

^on  of  the  thoughts  relating  to  the  object  of  study. 
Now.  what  >s  the  purpose  of  intensifying  these  thoughts? 

o  rh:!?;^  '°  T'^'  '"'"'  ™°-  suggestive  than'  y 
of  the  othe  mental  states  which  unite  with  them  to  make 
up  the  enttre  consciousness  of  the  moment.  If  any 
passmg  sound,   or  a  stray   elance    or    ,1,.  ■ 

5f.ns!iti,i.,.  „/        .  ^  glance,   or    the  unceasmg 

sensat  ons  of  contact,  or  any  transient  emotion,  were  as 
powerfully  suggestive  as  the  thoughts  in  ^h.ch  we 
endeavour  to  absorb  our  consciousness,  we  should  aLy 
be  tormented  by  that  distraction  which  we  fortunatel 
experience  only  at  times,  and  the  difference  be.wlen 
consecutive  and  rambling  thought  would  be  abolished 

The  prolonged  attitude  of  the  mind  called  studv  is 
essentially  identical  with  the  briefer  act  of  vo lunta  y 
recollection.     This  act,  as  it  involves  volition,  opens  up 

present'    ^1     I  ''""  "'"'^   ""  ^  '''-"^'^d  « 
present.     Suffice  it  to  recognise  the  fact,  that  there  is  a 

certain   effort  of  the  mind   which   we  understand   by 

volition  however  that  effort  may  be  explained.     When 

we  wish  to  recall  any  eject,  such  as  a  name,  which  does 

^h'bjeXr; '''''''' '"  ^^^'"'"«'°  ----- 

In  reproducing  any  previous  thought  we  cannot  of 
course  violate  the  laws  of  suggestion,  as  in  the  product' 
tion  of  any  physical  result  we  cannot  violate  the  laws  of 
external  nature.  But  the  productions  of  art  impr.he 
direction  of  physical  laws  towards  some  human  purp'o  e  ■ 
and  so  the  mental  laws  of  suggestion  may  be  directed  by' 
voluntary  effort  towards  some  end.     We  can  concentrate 

.h",!',T"?r"T  °"  ""'  "'°"S'"  "'"■^h  '^  Present;  and 
thus  this  thought  will  be  rendered  more  suggest I've  in 


92 


I  Psychology, 


Hi  1  • 


virtue  of  the  law  we  are  now  considering,  so  that  every. 
tl)ing  associated  with  it  will  be  more  likely  to  be  recalled. 
There  may  thus  be  brought  up  a  whole  cluster  of  thoughts 
related  to  that  of  which  we  are  in  search.     In  this  way 
the  second  part  of  the  present  law  may  be  brought  into 
operation  too  ;  a  number  of  thoughts  may  simultaneously 
combine    to  direct   our    consciousness   to    the    object 
wanted.     For  example,  I  see  a  face  that  I  know  well, 
but  cannot  fix  on    it  a  name.      I   make  an  effort  of 
recollection.     With  all  my  efforts  I  must  still  wait  till  the 
name  is  suggested  in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  associa- 
tion ;  and,  therefore,  the  utmost  I  can  do  is  to  direct  the 
operation  of  these  laws.     Accordingly  I  concentrate  my 
attention  on  the  face,  presented  or  represented.     That 
will  recall  possibly  the  place  where  I  saw  it  before,  as 
well  as  other  associated  circumstances,  till  at  last  the 
desired  name  may  turn  up.* 

It  may  be  added  that,  as  facts  locally  associated  must 
l)e  made  known  by  sensible  impressions,  and  as  these  are 
commonly  more  vivid  than  mere  abstractions  of  thought 
the  superior  suggestiveness  of  local  association  is  partially 
explained  by  the  law  under  consideration.  This  law  will 
be  further  illustrated  m  a  subsequent  chapter  by  the 
striking  fact  of  the  increased  power  which  memory  often 
acquires  in  dreams. 
(B)  In  illustrating  the  first  part  of  this  law  an  instance 


It  often  hflpi>cnr.  in  the  midst  of  study,  that  we  strive  to 
remember  something  in  vain.  In  view  of  such  failure,  a  useful 
practical  suggestion  is  given  by  several  writers.  If  the  object 
sought  does  not  readily  recur  to  the  mind,  it  is  better  not  to  waste 
the  menial  energy  in  prolonging  a  fruitless  effort.  A  prosecuUon 
of  the  collateral  study  often  leads  to  some  link  of  suggestion  by 
Which  the  desired  object  b  spontaneously  recalled.  * 


Association,  g^ 

ha.  been  incidentally  noticed,  in  which  the  second  part 
.s  also  called  into  play.    A  further  illustration  of  this  part 
.nay  be  found  by  observing  the  difTerence  in  the  effects 
produced  by  different  portraits.     One  portrait  is  said  to 
be  a  ./r/>(.,;/^ likeness,  because  it  strikes  or  impresses  the 
mmd  at  once  by  its  resemblance  to  the  person  portrayed. 
Another  portrait  is  said  to  be  a/././  likeness,  because  it 
fa.Is  to  show  the  same  suggestive  power.     Now,  what  is 
the  source  of  the  difference  in  the  suggestiveness  of  the 
two  portraits?     In  the  case  of  a  striking  likeness  all.  or 
most,  of  the  features  in  the  portrait  resemble  the  corres- 
ponding  Matures  in  the  person  portrayed ;  and,  conse- 
quently, the  perceptions  of  all  these  features  combine  in 
suggesting  the  person.     In  the  other  case  there  is  per 
haps  but  a  single  feature  in  which  there  is  any  resem- 
blance between  the  portrait  and  the  original,  while  even 
in  that  feature  the  resemblance  may  be  imperfect :  so 
that  there  is  possibly  but  one  perception  capable  of  sug- 
gestmg.  and  that  with  some  hesitation,  the  person  repre- 
sented.  * 

The  same  fact  is  further  illustrated  in  the  history  of 
science.  In  so  far  as  the  progress  of  science  consists  in 
the  widening  of  human  generalisation,  it  may  also  be  said 
to  consist  m  the  discovery  of  previously  undetected 
resemblances  among  the  phenomena  of  the  universe 
Now,  all  the  more  obvious  resemblances,— the  re* 
semblances  which  touch  a  considerable  number  of 
features,-were  discovered  in  the  earliest  stages  of 
scientific  inquiry  ;  it  is  the  subtler  resemblances.-those 
which  connect  but  a  few  features,  or  only  one,-that  are 
being  revealed  in  modern  times. 

il— Law  of  Suggestibility. 
States  of  mind  are  more  suggestible  in  proportion  to 


^™! 


h  \ 


B"' 


94 


/'sjiA  A>^. 


(i)  their  rcrrntnrss.  (.)  thnr  prov|o„,  intonsily,  and 
{^)  ilio  (tc(iiiciu7  of  their  previous  recurrence  • 
THe  tluoc  (jualiiies  upon  which,  in  this  hi w.  suggest i- 
hi.ity  depends,  rcp.ire  fo  he  scparaUiy  considered. 

(A)  AV</-/////m.  Kew  facts  in  the  mental  hfe  of  man 
are  n.ore  fan.iliar  ihun  the  experience  that  impressions 
recently  received  are  more  rea.lily  revived  than  those 
received  h.ng  ago.  Every  schoolhoy  knows  that  the 
esson  he  learnt  yesterday  may  he  repeated  easily  to-day, 
hut  that  lie  might  tremble  if  called  to  repeat  it  a  month 
hence. 

So  certain  i.s  the  law,  that  it  is  often  applied  in  medical 
practice,    m   t!ic    treatment    of  patients   sufTering    from 
tDcntal   ..nx.ety.      Such   anxiety  comm<,nl>    arises   from 
he  n.nui  l.e.n^  s.raine.I  to  excessive  activity  by  certain 
thoughts  and  emotions  connected  with  business  or  other 
cares  of  life  ;  and  it  becomes  of  the  utmost  importance 
ior   mental    health    that    these   thoughts  and   emotions 
should  l,e  excluded  as  much  as  possible  from  conscious- 
ness.      Ihis  can    be  done   only    by   diminishing    their 
suggestibility;  and  this  cfTect,  again,  is  most  likely  to  be 
produced  by  occupying  the  mind  with  other  subjects  of 
a  more  suggestible  character.     Accordingly  it  is  common 
to  recommend  a  change  of  scene,  so  that  the  patient  may 
receive  novel  impressions,   which,  on  account  of  their 


There  m.j;!-.  be  an  increased  exactness  gained  by  expressing 
th,s  law  .n  the  forn,  .—  •  Representations  are  more  likely   to  be 
su^^^^osted  ,n  proportion  to  the  rccentnoss.  the  intensity,  and  the 
frcp.ency  of  recmrence  of   the  «,en,al    states   of  which  they  are 
representations."     Yet  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  be  rcninded  that 
«»  .M,ggest,on.  ,t  is  not   the  prior  state  Itself  that  is  brou^^ht  in*-^ 
existence  again,  but  merely  a  representation  of  it.     No  .-rio'us  co' 
fusion  IS  hkely  to  arise  from  speaking,  in  accordance  with  ordinal 
usage,  of  a  former  menta!  state  being  suggested  or  recalled 


Association,  - 

"nn,,|yf|,e,ea«nn,I  countries  .liffcrpnl. 
VVith  vnrial.le  ol.jcct.s.  shall  cx,,d 

ni.««o,uctl,in„sc..l!o,|  „,„„,,  i„,,,,  J, 

t^l'7?'''^"'''"''''''  '''"•'"«  P"'- him' hu. 
I'rom  fasliioii  of  hiinf,clf."» 

viewed  n.h,.r  nc  p'icnomenon,  it  must  b 

^^^ '"'^''^   ^'^^   ^   ^^'■^'^ger    suggestive   power. 

•  Hamlet,  Act  ui„  Scene  i. 


96 


Psychology. 


Many,  familiar  facts  may  now  be  adduced  to  show  that 
-he  greater  intensity  of  a  mental  state  makes  it  also  more 
readily  suggestible  at  any  subse^.ient  time 

An  illustration  of  this  will  be  found  in  the  effect  of  an 
•ntense  emotion,  whether  joyful  or  sorrowful,  on   the 
current  of  our  thoughts.    The  unendurable  anguish,  that 
attaches  to  many  an  intense  sorrow,  has  its  source  in 
this  law      For  everything,  that  has  the  remotest  associa- 
tion with  the  sorrow,  suggests  it  readily  on  account  of  its 
superior  intensity,  so  that  our  consciousness  is  scarcely 
ever  freed  from  its  presence,  «  we  cannot  get  it  out  of 
our  m,nds.»      Almost   every   object   around  us,   being 
su.jcest,ve  of  our  grief,  comes  to  be  invested  in  its  gloom 
the  brighter  aspects  of  nature  recall  it  by  contrast,  the 
darker    by  harmony,   and    the    whole    world    appears 
gloomy  in  consequence.      All  literature  is  full  of  this 
reaction  between  the  aspects  of  external  nature  and  the 
moods  of  the  soul. 

Fortunately  the  same  cause  imparts  an  additional  zest 
to  our  mtenser  joys.  In  consequence  of  their  being 
perpetually  re-suggested,  « -^e  cannot  help  thinking  of 
them  ; »  and  this  perpetual  re-suggestion  forms  what  has 
been  felicitously  described  as  an  under-current  of  glad- 
ness m  the  soul.  Our  joy  being  readily  suggested  by 
almost  any  object,  everything  around  us  comes  to  be 
lighted  up  with  its  radiance ;  the  whole  world  seems 
happy. 

"  Let  no  one  ask  tne  how  it  came  to  pass  i 
It  seems  that  I  am  happy,  that  to  me 
A  brighter  emerald  twinkles  in  the  grass, 
A  purer  sapphire  melts  into  the  sea."* 


•  Tennyson'*  Maud,  xviii.,  d. 


'^ 


Association, 


^ 


The  love-songs  of  all  literatures  represent  the  dominant 
passion  as  being  continually  re-awakened  even  by  the 
most  trivial  associations,  while  it  throws  its  charm  over 
the  whole  of  nature  and  of  life;  and  all  the  other 
emotions,  in  their  intenser  forms,  manifest  the  same 
power. 

In  the  light  of  this  law  we   may,  therefore,   inter- 
pret  a   number  of  phenomena,   which    Mr.    Mill   and 
other    psychologists    have    endeavoured   to  summirise 
m  a  general   statement.      "  The   following,"  says   Mr 
Mill,*  "  is  one  of  the   simple   laws  of  mind.      Ideas 
of  a  pleasurable  or  painful  character  form  associations 
more    easily   and   strongly   than   other    ideas,   that   is 
they   become  associated    after    fewer   repetitions,   and 
the    association    is    more    durable.     ...  By 

deduction  from  th.\  law,  many  of  the  more  special  laws 
which    experience    shows    to    exist    among    particular 
mental    phenomena    may    be    demonstrated    and    ex- 
plained :  the  ease  and  rapidity,  for  instance,  with  which 
thoughts    connected   with   our    passions   or    our   more 
cherished  interests  are  excited,  and  the  firm  hold  which 
the  facts  relating  to  them  have  on  our  memory ;   the 
vjvid  recollections  we  retain  of  minute  circumstances 
which  accompanied  any  object  or  event  that  deeply  in- 
terested us,  and  of  the  times  and  places  in  which  we 
have  been  very  happy  or  very   miserable;   the  horror 
with  which  we  viev.   the  accidental  instrument  of  any 
occurrence  which  shocked  us,  or  the  locality  where  it 
took   place,   and   the    pleasure    we    derive    from    any 
memorial  of  past  enjoyment ;  all  these  effects  being  pro^ 


\System  of  Logic,  Book  iii.,  Chapter  xiii.,  §  6.      Sec  further 
on  the  subject  Mili'g  DLscrlaiiom  atui  Discussions,  VoL  »..  louuh 


98 


Psychology. 


\m 


portional  to  the  sensibility  of  the  individual  mind  and  *ht 
consequent  intensity  of  the  pain  or  pleasure  from  which  the 

association  originated. Associations  being 

of  two  sorts,  either  between   synchronous  or  between 
successive  impressions ;   and  the  influence  of  the  law 
wh.ch  renders  associations  stronger  \n  proportion  to  the 
p  easurable  or  painful  character  of  the  impressions,  being 
felt   with    peculiar   force   in   the   synchronous   class   of 
associations;     .     .     .     .     i„    ^j^^s   of  strong  organic 
sensibility   synchronous    associations   will    be   likely   to 
predominate,  producing  a  tendency  to  conceive  things 
m    pictures   and   in    the    concrete,    richly   clothed    hi 
attributes  and  circumstances,  a  mental  habit  which  is 
commonly    called     Imagination,    and   is    one    of   the 
peculiarities  of  the  painter  and  poet ;  while  persons  of 
more  moderate  sensibility  to  pleasure  and  pain  will  have 
a  tendency  to  associate  facts  chiefly  in  the  order  of  their 
succession,  and  such  persons,    if  they  possess  mental 
superiority,  will  addict  themselves  to  history  or  science 
rather  than  creative  art." 

The  interesting  phenomena,  referred  to  in  this  quota- 
tion,  all  admit  of  being  viewed  as  results  of  the  more 
general  law,  that  the  superior  intensity  of  a  mental 
impression,  without  reference  to  its  pleasurable  or 
painful  character,  renders  it  more  suggestible  as  well  as 
more  suggestive;  and  this  generalisation  of  the 
phenomena  is,  indeed,  implied  in  the  words  of  the 
passage  which  I  have  italicised. 

One  other  remark  may  be  made  in  this  connection. 
It  IS  suggested,  in  the  above  quotation,  that  an  intense 
sensibility  will  generally  create  the  poetic  or  artistic 
tendency  to  synchronous  rather  than  successive,  that  is 
local  rather  than  temporal,  associations,  It  thus  appears 
that  local  associations  are  based  on  the  comparatively 


nm. 


AssociatioH.  «_ 

intense  impressions  of  sense.  %nd  that  therefore  in  ,1,;. 
fact,  coupled  (as  already  observed)  w  ih  7^^ 
-ggestiveness  of  in.ensUy,  we  lave  a  nan.al  T" 

nri-t:  -^'  p^-^-n  Sd  In  r 

local  Social       '''  ""    """^^   '°«^"'"    "^  -- 
(C)  Frequency  of  recurrence.      This  caus*»  of  Jn..        ^ 

IJrooaDiy    this    circumstanre     alcr^    fU„^         •  , 
It  IS  important,  however,  to  observe  that  this  Dart  of 

Zlcz.t^TT' '  ""^^^  — -ed  ^t: 

dozen  t,mes  inattentively,  while  the  ;the    ZlTit  but 
two  or  three  times  with  intense  concentration  of^^,•nd 

i^.:X":frrr"^''^'^^'---»^-« 

eT^'gitr/r:?  "''  "''  """'  oflearning,  and 
c  yet  giited  with  compaiativelv  liifl^  .«o^,v„„.  :„ 


100 


Psychology. 


calling  it  when  wanted,  though  it  is  more  common  to 
meet  with  those  who  exhibit  great  quickness  in  repro- 
ducing   comparatively     slender     acquirements.      This 
familiar     distinction     between     retentive     and     ready 
memories  is,  partially  at  least,  explained  by  the  different 
conditions  of  suggestibility ;  for,  as  some  psychologists 
have  already  observed,  retentiveness  is  cultivated  mainly 
by  intense  concentration  of  the  mind  in  the  acquisition 
of  knowledge,   while   readiness   is   attained    rather   by 
frequent  repetition  of  what  has   been  learnt.     As  the 
reproduction  of  what  we  have  already  mastered  is  an 
easier  and  pleasanter  occupation  than  the  task  of  master- 
irg  what  is  yet  unknown,  it  is  not  difficult  to  understand 
why  memories  of  comparative  readiness  should  be  met 
with  more  frequently  than  those  of  vast  extent.     Readi- 
ness, moreover,  though  often  combined  with  extremely 
limited  attainments,  yet  produces  in  the  popular  mind 
the  most  striking  and  intelligible  impression  of  mental 
power,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  absence  of  quick- 
ness in  recollection  may  create  an  appearance  of  mental 
slowness— of  dullness— in  men  of  great  erudition  ;  and 
this   contrast    may   account    for   the   popular    illusion, 
which  is  foitunately  contradicted  by  many  conspicuous 
examples,   that  great  memories   are  incompatible   with 
great  intellects.* 


•Sir  W.  Hamilton,  who  expresses  this  distinction  by  his 
Conservative  (or  Retentive)  and  Keproductive  Faculties,  adduces  a 
number  of  philosophers,  ancient  and  modern,  by  whom  the 
distinction  has  been  recognised.  See  his  Lectures  on  Metaphysics, 
Led.  XXX.  ;  and  compare  Stewart's  Elements,  Chap.  vi.  Both  ol 
these  |)assnges  may  be  recommended  to  the  student  for  their 
abundant  illustration,  not  only  of  this  distinction,  but  of  other 
interesting  facts  connected  with  memory. 


Association.  loi 

\\\.—Law  of  Mutual  Suggestiveness  and  Suggestibility, 
The  drift  of  this  law  admits  of  its  being  appropriately 
described  also  as  the  Laiv  of  Uniform  Association.     It 
may  be  expressed  as  follows  •— 

States  of  mind  are  more  likely  to  suggest  each  other  in 

proportion    to   the  uniformity    of  their    previous 

association,  and  in  the  order  in  which  they  have 
been  associated. 

It  may  not  be  without  use  to  distinguish  he-a  between 
this  law  and  the   third   part  of  the  previous  law.     A 
mental    state   may   frequently   recur   in   consciousness, 
without   being  always  associated  with  the  same  mental 
state;  and   this   frequent  recurrence,  even   in  difTerent 
associations,  will  render  it  more  suggestible  than  at  fi'rst 
by  any  suggestive   circumstance.      But   if  its    frequent 
recurrence  has  been  due  to  its  association  with  the  same 
cause,  then  the  likelihood  of  its  being  suggested  when- 
ever  that  cause  makes  its  appearance  will   be  greatly 
increased,  and  increased  in  proportion  to  the  uniformity 
with  which  ,t  has  been   previously  associated  with  that 
cause.     It  follows  also  from  this  law  that,  if  a  mental 
state   A    has    been    associated    very   frequently    with    a 
second  B,  and  only  at  occasional  intervals  with  a  third 
Q  then  unless  some  other  law  of  suggestion  intervene, 
13  IS  more  likely  than  C  to  be  suggested  by  A 

The  full  exposition  of  this  law  can  be  fou'nd  only  in 
later  analyses  ;  but  here  it  may  be  observed  that  a  si.m.le 
mstance  of  its  operation  is  met  with  in  learning  a  passa-e 

wLrT  ^"  '^^^'^^^^^  not  only  do  we  repeat  the 
words  frequently,  but  we  repeat  them  in  the  same 
connections,  so  that  each  preceding  word  becomes 
attached  m  our  consciousness  to  each  succeeding  word 
with  a  certain  degree  of  uniformity.     As  this  uniformity 


102 


Psychology, 


come  Ltrrrr;  'r ^^"-"^  "^-^^'^ '-  '^ 

«ith  the   Dol?  ,n   • ,        ^      "'  "°  '"«''='"  connection 

,  connect  t::^:^:^!^-^:-;-^^ 

'  and  by.  that  the  strength  of  hato'is  due  n  K  '''""  ^^ 
suggestion  arising  f,,l  the  t^  fo™  ,  ,  "ci  tL'T't,'' 
suggesting  and  suggested  states  of  ,„i„d         '  ""' 

'»o  states  o    n  ind    A "  nH    °\°"^'"'''y  «^P«"ence, 
associated  fo    a   while    it    '       "   'f"    "'"''°™'^ 

Whether   the   suggestion    shall    take   place   or   not  •    i 
becomes    rresistihlp      ^..f  u  u  .  ^ '    '^ 

well  •    fh.J  "  ^^'°"'^'  instantaneous  as 

^ell.    there   ,s   no   appreciable    interval    between    the 


Association,  j^. 

suggesting  and  the  suggested  states;  the  latter  rushes 
mto  consciousness  like  a  flash  of  immediate  intuit  on 
and  we  fa,  to  observe  that  it  is  given  merely  through  the 

Although   this   phenomenon  is  in  reality  merelv  »n 
extreme  form  of  the  U«  of  Uniform  Asso  iat^  /et" 

:y^re:i;i;\":.rr'-^°"" 

P^^f  veTlsTr''  ';/'^""«"'^''«<^.  fro-  on' 

Jom  anothr^oiL  o/vitrx"::^^.:^:^^^^^ 

dicated  in  the  following  expression  :— 

States  of  mind,  which   have  long  been  invariably    or 

Sirar"';  """"^''   ^"«Sest  each  'oZ 
rresistibly  and  instantaneously  in  the  order  in  which 

they  have  been  associated. 
Numerous  illustrations  of  this  law  must  be  noticed 
afterwards,  especially  in  the  analysis  of  our  percep"  o„s 
These  cognitions  generally  appear  like  direct  presfn^' 
uons  of  an  external  object  to  consciousne   ,  'whereas' 
psychological  analysis  discloses  the  fact  that  thev  !re 
merely  suggestions  which  have  become  ins  antaneous 
from  long  association.     Our  perceptions  belong  to  a  Ca 

by  wav  oT  in  ?"'  ""'^  "PP-P^'e'y  be  noticed  he" 
by  way  of  illustrating  the  effects  of  irresistible  »nH 
ms  antaneous  suggestion.      They  are  the  7h  „oVe„a 

.o'lr    which^  •'"''"" '^"-^^"^^  -  -^''-  -" 
recur,   which   is  acquired   by  repeated  occurrence. 


/^w.t:!'::::  '-^'"""^  •-' "-  --p'-b,.  ..„^ 


ro4 


Psychology, 


It   (l.flTcrs,    in   the   fact    of    its   being    acquired,    from 
a.i   mstmct,   which    is   a    tendency   of    the   same    sort 
born    wuh    the    in.livich.al.         Flahit,    therefore,     pre' 
sents   a    problem    for    the    psyehnlo^ist    in    the    fa.t 
that  a  tendency  to  perform   certain  actions   is   created 
by  repcatm^  (hem  Ireciuenily  before.      When  we  be.Mn 
to  ao,u.re   a   habit  or   dexterity,    we   perform   dehber^ 
atoly  slowly,  and  in  general   wiih  dilhculty,  the  actions 
which  It  nnplies;  but  gradually  by  frequent  repetition  -^ 
by  practice,  as  it  is  commonly  expressed.-the  dinicully 
slowness,  and  delibenuion.  with  which  the  actions  were' 
done  at  first,  give  way  to  ease,  rapidity,  and  unconscious, 
ness.     The  acti.  ns  nre  then  described  at  limes  as  being 
done  tnstnidiveh,  bom  their  resemblance  to  the  results 
which  nature  produces  in  us  without  any  conscious  voli- 
tion on  our  part ;  while  their  resemblance  to  the  regulir 
easy,  unintelligent  workings  of  a  machine  leads  us  'to 
speak  of  them   also   as   being  done  mechanicalh       In 
earning  to  read,  for  example,  the  child  at  first  familiarises 
hni.self  slowly    with   the  sound   of  every  letter,   slowly 
acquires  the  power  of  recognising  the  sounds  of  di/Terent 
combmations,  of  spelling  syllable  by  syllable,  and  word 
l>y  word,  till  he  is  able  to  recognise  at  a  glan<e  entire 
words  without  the  previous  painful  labour  of  spellin-r  each 
letter,  entire  clauses  and  sentences  without  dwellin-^^  i-pcn 
each  word,  and  even  to  catch  the  meaning  of  whole^ages 
when  they  are  merely  run  over  in  a  hurried  glance     The 
same  process  is  observed  in  learning  to  walk,  to  speak,  to 
Sjng,  to  play  on  a  musical  instrument,  to  direct  pencil  or 
chisel  or  sword,  and  generally  in  acquiring  all  those  arts 
ilut  are  necessary  for  existence  or  for  the  enjoyment  of 

The  peculiar  problem  of  these  phenomena  is  solved 
mamly   by  the   law  of  Irresistible  and   Instantaneous 


Association.  ,qj 

Suggestion.    Of  course  in  ,he  acq„i,i,i„„  of  «  f,„hi.  ,h„ 

-r  Which  con.i.,,,,':  h..^  ■  ^.L^i.^  ~  .i:; 

with  which  The  fol'e    ha  T:1"  h"  "'^"  ""'^"'""^ 
association  with  the  Imter     tTI  ""^^"""^  '" 

the  learnin..  nf  »  l7  *' ''''  *">'  °f  '""^'ration, 

me  learning  of  a  language,  native  or  foreign     In  Ic.rni  J 

suunas,  so  that  the  former  w  11  siifrap«f  tu^  i  .. 

capable  of  perform^  T  erie  o  tlf'  "'■  T  "''"'""' 
conscious  of  the  indl  di:  L^n  rn"::'""""  ''fs 
merely  of  the  series  as  a  whoTe      Whe„  ,  h  T"'  ''"' 

bb        It   irresistibly  and    instantaneously       Now    *r. 

duration  necessary  to  excite  mnc.  ^® 

ortijr  lo  excite  consciousness  varies  evi- 


* 


io6 


in 

♦i! 


!!'■    ■  ! 


A  i 


;1 

I 
(1 


Psychology, 


dently  for  different  organ,  in  the  same  person  for  ,he 
sa.ne  organ  ,n  differen.  persons,  and  even  for  the  at 
organ  ,„  the  same  person  at  different  times  In  al 
and  smell  sensations  are  very  soon  confounded  ve„ 
when  they  do  not  follow  each  other  in  very  ran  d 
succession.    The  higher  senses  themselves,  though  l^, 

Tbirto  th"  ■""'  ■""'  "•""^"'^  distin^uishai  a" 
subject  to  the  same  condition.     I„  hearing,  as  we  have 

already  seen'  when  vibrations  reach  a  grtter "Lrdilv 
than  about  :orty  in  a  second,  they  become  fused  i:  ^o 
tone.     E  en  m  the  most  intellectual   of  the  senses  \ 
^ap.    senes  of  impressions  results  in  a  simLr   u"n 
Thus  he  appearance  of  a  circle  of  light  may  be  produced 
by  wh.rl.ng  a  lighted  point  with  sufficient  velo^irbefore 
the  eyes;  the  sensation  of  white  light  may  be  excited  h! 

which  It  IS  decomposed;  while  many  striking  owical 
effects  of  the  same  sort  are  now  familiar  in      e  thaCa 

.rope.tewheeloflife,and  other  interestingscientm::: 

In  all  such  fusion  of  different  impressions  the  same 

cause  may  be  traced.     Before  each  p'rior  impression  h^s 

.1met7'\°7""  "^'"^  ^^^^  P'io-'i'nulus  as  'rd 
;.me  to  excite  distinct  consciousness,  the  next  supervenes 

nes  :::'r::°""'°r"^"  '^'  """^f"-'  "-^  ^--Lr 

ness,  not  of  any  single  impression  in  the  series  h,,,  „f 
.hem  all  blended  together.  Now,  this  I  pr  c' e  ..he 
phenomenon  that  is  witnessed  when  a  series  oTactions 

a?dCXs"'Th"'^  velocity  Characteristic  ofCi 
ana  dexterities.     The  mdislinguishability  of  the  ind  vi,i 
«al  ac.ions,-their  fusion  in  a  general  consciou  ness  oahe 
series  as  a  whole,-is  a  result  of  the  rapidity,  the  instl!!: 


Booki..  Parti.,  Chapter  n.,5  4. 


P 


Association* 

107 

prolonged   for  'a  ~  ,      e  «!  T    '^.^" 

can   be  no    doubt  of  the  fact   ^h,r/»-^'-      ""^ 
nervous  and  muscular  Z^!  ^  TZ  Z  Z' 

ezrof^if'tte  ::t/'-.r-'^  -cC 

-era...  TbL  rCoi^^Trdirars '. 

as  automat  c  or  reflex  arM'nn  .  o«^  ^  uescriDed 

L-  ,  »cucx  action;  and  as  even  somp  ^f  fK^ 

cilf  ^rd"''  T"'°"^  '"^^  ^^  ^^-'  b    habTua  Lt 

me  control  of  the  highest  nerve-centres  in  the  brain  it 

has  become  customary,  of  recent  vear.  Z  ' 

process  of  «  .,n^^„    •  .         ^^  ^'  '°  recognise  a 

processor     unconscious  cerebration  " 


I  lit: 


108 


Psychology. 


It  b  in  the  phenomena  thus  brought  under  the  genera! 
I^w  of  Irresistible  and  Instantaneous  Suggestion,  that 
the  great  moral  and  religious  teachers  of  the  world  have 
found  the  inevitable  fact  of  retribution  which  rules  with 
an  unfailing  justice  all  the  actions  of  men,  a  fact  which 
has  often  beep,  expressed  by  the  singularly  appropriate 
figure,  implied  in  the  statement,  that  "  whatsoever  a  man 
»owctb,  that  shall  he  also  reap." 


Ji  ■  I 


Comparison. 


109 


CHAPTER  IL 


COMPARISON. 


1  N  our  consciousness  mental  states  appear,  not  in  ab- 
1      solute  isolation  from  each  other,  but  in  manifold 
relations ;  and  mental  life  consists,  not  in  the  conscious- 
ness of  isolated   states,    but   in   the  consciousness  of 
the  relations  which  they  hold  one  to  another.      The 
consciousness  of  relations    is    always,   in   its  essential 
nature,  an  act  of  comparison ;   the  related  phjnomena 
must  be  compared  in  order  to  the  discover;'  of  their 
relations.     The  term  comparison  may  not  fully  express 
all  that  is  involved  in  the  mental  act  under  consideration  ; 
but  it  implicitly  denotes  all  that  is  unde.otood,  inasmuch 
as  there  cannot  be  a  comparison  without  a  consciousness 
of  some  relation  between  the  objects  compared.     There 
are  some  features  of  resemblance  between  comparison 
and  suggestion ;  but  a  confusion  of  the  two  would  lead 
to   a   very   radical    misapprehension   regarding    mental 
phenomena.     It  is  desirable,   therefore,  to  make  clear 
the  distinction  between  the  two  processes, 

The  two  resemble  one  another  in  the  fact  that  both 
require  two  mental  states  in  order  to  their  possibility. 
Suggestion  always  implies  a  suggesting  and  a  suggested 
state  of  mind,  while  comparison  supposes  two  things  to 
be  compared.  There  is  a  further  resemblance  in  the 
fact  that  both  acts  imply  a  relation  between  the  two 


no 


Psychology, 


1 

p: 

If 

1 

1 

\ 

\  \ 

.1'i! 

%  1 

"f ' 

\   ' 

1 

i 

fates  which  they  presuppose.  I„  connection  with  the 
I-nmary  Laws  of  Suggestion,  it  was  shown  that  two 
mental  states  must  be  related  by  similarity  or  cont  g  ty 
before  they  can  suggest  each  other;  and  it  is  still  L  e 
obvious  that.  ,n  being  compared,  they  are  brought  Z 

tin^lh^"^  "*'™  '""P"""'  differences  which  dis- 
mgutsh .  comparison    and    suggestion.      The    first  i, 
hat  suggestion  implies  a  sequence.-a  transition  from 
he  suggesting  to  the  suggested  state;  while,  in  order  to 
•he    very   possibility   of   con.parison,    the    phenomena 
omparod  must  be  simultaneously  present  to'conscTou" 
ness.     Besides,   there  is   a  second  and  more  radical 
difference— t  is  the  esspntJai   .i:b-  i         raoicai 

two  act,      Tn  1  fssential  difference-between  the 

two  acts.     In  suggestion  we  are  conscious  of  the  one 
^^ted  state,  then  of  the  other,  the  relation  foX 

ts  bein.  r  ""  "''"'  °'  comparison  consists  in 

"elated  states""""^  "  '"^  -'^"-  ''"-»  'he 

Comparison  may  thus  be  defined  a  i«^./,^g,  ofnta. 

ton.     As  such  it  is  the  highest  function  of  mind-  it 

and  of  allowing  these  unreflectingly  to  repeat  themselve 
in  the  order  and  connexions  determined  by  thei 
uTtle?'!  r°f"°";  '"  ---usness;  it  L  ,> 
h  passion  f ,  '''^"'■"■"^'  "^^""'^  "^^  ^^P-«'e 
oti.er.  This  ,s  the  faculty  which  is  understood  by  the 
various  expressions  descriptive  of  mind  in  its  hthesl 
^.-Thought,  Understanding,  Judgment.  Intro:, 

To  the  full  explanation  of  comparison,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  unfold  all  the  relations  which  it  is  capable 


Comparison.  ,  j  j 

the  e  at  present  without  entering  upon  problems,  which 
must  be  reserved  for  subsequent  discussion.     But,  with 

volof  n  Z  '"f  ^'"^"'^'  ^^'^'ion^.  which,  if  not  ,he 
type  of  all  others,  form  at  least  the  basis  of  all  knowledge. 
These  are  the  relations  of  Identity  and  Difference.  The 
consaousness  of  the  former  is  technically  called  an 
Affirmative  Judgment;  that  of  the  latter,  a  Negative 
Judgment.  It  will  soon  be  seen  that  the  e  judgmen  s 
enter  mto  all  our  knowledge.  "Sments 

Such  acts  of  judgment  or  comparison,  in  which  pheno- 
mena are  .dent.fied  and  discriminated,  are  governed  by 
'aws.  These  laws,  m  their  supreme  form,  are  three,  which 
are  accordmgly  named  the  General  L.ws  of  Thought 

difficulty  which  IS  experienced  in  understanding  the  pur- 

simplicity.  They  are  such  obvious  truisms,  that  there 
seems  almost  an  insult  to  intelligence  in  their  me  e 
^atement ;  and,  accordingly,  there  is  a  temptation  to 

whth  th?  r''  P'f  """^  '"''"'!'S '"  "•«""  'han  that 
f?r^  li  ^  "^  °"  *'''  '"^''«-  '^•"  'he  laws,  which 
form  the  elementary  principles  of  all  thinking,  must  be 
so  utterly  evident,  that  nothing  more  evident  can  becon- 

can  be  adduced  either  for  their  proof  or  for  their  dis- 
proof. 

The    following,    then,    are    the    General    Laws    of 
Thought  : — 

f  ^'  T^^  tT  '^  ^^'""^'^^  '^  P°P"^^^^>'  ^^P'-essed  in  the 
formula,  Whatever  is,  is;  niore  technically  in  the 
formuh,  A  is  A.  Its  purport,  as  a  law  of  thought  will 
probably  be   better  iinHprc^r.r.fi   k..  *u^  f_t,.    • 


I 


112 


Psychology. 


«l:  m 


I  3 


N 


I 


111, 


m^nx.-.- Whatever  is  thoug/,1  must  be  ihmghl  to  be  Ihal 
which  tl  is  tlwu^ht. 

c^llV't/T  «^  C.«/«&rf.«,  as   it  is   commonly 
called,  or  the  Law  of  Noncontradiction,  as  it  has  been 
perhaps  more  appropriately,  called,  is  expressed  in  the 
popular  formula,  //  is  in,possible  for  a  thing  to  be  and  not 

formula   /'  ""T   ''7'   '°'"'"'""   '■"   "-^    '^^hn-al 
formula,  A  ts  not  non-A.      The  purport  of  the  law  „,ay 

be  more  clearly  mdicated  by  the  statement  -Whatever 
l/Ju^hf      """"'  "'  ""'"^'"  ""'  '"  '"  """  '"'"''''  ''  « 

h  ^^}'  '^''Lf'"'"-^^'**''^'^'"""^  so  called,  because 
by  .t  a  middle  or  third  alternative  is  excluded  between 
two  contradictory  judgments,  inasmuch  as  one  of  these 

denied  "t.     !"  """^"  '''™^<^' '"«  ""^^  '"  'hought 

an"  f     r  ''"  ■'  '""•  ""*  "^«  "'"^  '"°.  ''"own  by 

any  fara.har  statement.  Its  technical  expression  is  the 
formula,  A  either  is  or  is  not  £;  but  perhaps  the  follow! 
■ng  formula  may  explain  it  more  disti„ctly:-0/,M«/«,, 

The  science,  which  expounds  these  laws  in  all  thHr 

Lomh"";" "'""•  '^  ^«''^-  T*-^  f"-'-"  o 
,.  \,  '  u  ,f°'^'  '°  *'~""  *e  norm,  by  which 
thought  should  be  regulated.  It  is  no,,  however^'h 
normal,  but  wUh  actual,  thinking,  that  ps^hology  IT  o 
do  and  we  shall  find,  as  we  proceed,  that  the  pfobLms 
of  the  two  sciences  have  sometimes  been  unnecessarUv 
complicated  by  not  being  kept  distinct       """*"'''*"'' 


BOOK    II. 


i 
•J 

t  1  -i. 


SPECIAL  PSVCHOLOGV. 


TN    the  previous  Book  we    have    examined    those 
1      elementary  products  of  natural  sensibility  which 
have  been  called  the  raw  materials  of  mind,  as  well  as 
the  processes  by  which  these  are  wrought  into  the  com- 
binations which  form  the  actual  mental  life.     Our  task 
is  now  to  investigate  the  distinctive  nature  of  the  difff  ent 
combinations    which    are  thus    formed   in   the    living 
consciousness   of  men.       These   combinations   assume 
three  fundamental  types,  which  are  usually  distinguished 
by   the   names   of    Cognition,    Feeling,    and    Volition. 
Those  different   types   of  mental    life   arise    from   the 
development  of  three  different  aspects  which  elementary 
sensations  present.     For  these  may  be  viewed  as  sources 
either  of  (i)  information,   or  (2)  of  pleasurable   and 
pamful  excitement,  or  (3)  of  impulse  to  action.     In  so 
far  as  the  first  aspect  of  sensation  is  developed  in  any 
mental  combination,  the   resultant  consciousness  is  a 
cognition ;  the  development  of  the  second  aspect  gives 
rise  to  feeling  or  emotion,  while  volition  is  evolved  from 
the  third.     These  three  aspects  of  sensation  may,  there- 
fore, be  described  as  the  intellectual  or  cognitional,  the 
emotional,  and  the  volitional.* 


•  Though  the  germ  of  this  threefold   classification  is  by  some 
writers  traced  as  far  back  as  the  Timaeus  of  Plato,  yet  it  seems  to 


Ii6 


Psychology, 


n\ 


I 


The  evolution,  therefore,  of  those  mental  combinations 
which  form  the  intellect,   the  emotions,  and  the  will  of 
man,  is  determined  by  the  readiness  with  which  sensa- 
tions submit  to  the  two  processes  of  association   and 
comparison.    Nou,  association  involves  both  a  sug^'csting 
and  a  suggested  state  of  mind  ;   and,  accordingly,  the 
associabilily   of  a   sensation    nuist    be    interpreted    by 
reference  both  to  its  suggestivcness  and  its  suggestibility. 
Compel ison,  also,  involves  both  identification  and  dis- 
crunination,  so  that  the  comparability  of  sensations  is  to 
be  estimated  by  their  power  of  being  at  once  identified 
and  distinguished.     It  may  be  added  that  comparability 
holds  in  representation  as  well  as  in  presentation.     The 
distinct  representability  of  a  sensation,  therefore,  expresses 
the  clearness  with  which   it  may  be  distinguished  and 
identified  when  it  is  merely  represented  in  memory  or 
imagination.     Consequently,  distinct  representability  is 
not  to  be  confounded  with  ready  suggestibility  ;  for  a 
sensation  may  be  readily  recalled  as  an  indefinite  fact  of 
mental  life,  even  when  its  nature  cannot  be  vividly  repre- 
sented in  consciousness.* 


h-nve  t.iken  definite  form  first  among  the  writers  of  the  Leibnitic 
Wollian  School  about  the  middle  of  last  century,  especially  Meier, 
Moses  Mendelssohn,  and  Tetens  (Erdmann's  Gcschuhte  der  Philoso- 
phie,  §301,  2).  As  Kant  was  brought  up  in  this  school  and 
adopted  the  classification,  it  has  p.issed  through  his  writings  into 
the  philosophical  literature  of  all  Europe.  See  an  historical  and 
critical  discussion  of  the  subject  in  Wundt's  Physiohgische  Psycho- 
hi^ie,  Vol.  i.,  pp.  n-iS  (2nd  ed.)  See  also  nAm\\u,n'%  lectures  on 
Metaphysics,  Lect.  xi.,  and  Lotze's  Mih-okosmus,  Hook  ii.,  chap.  2. 
•The  distinction  here  indicated  is  expressed  by  Sir  William 
Hamilton  in  the  discrimination  of  the  Representative  from  the 
Reproductive  Faculty.  See  his  Lednns  on  Metaphysics  {xxxi.. 
xxxiii.),  where  interesting  illustrations  of  the  distinction  will  be 
found. 


Special  Psychology. 


117 


It  will  be  seen,  then,  that  we  are  thus  furnished  with 
a  criterion  to  determine  the  order  in  which  the  senses 
take  rank  as  eonlrihutin^  more  or  less  important 
materials  for  the  uphnilding  of  mind  in  all  its  three 
functions.  Their  relative  value  for  this  purpose  depends 
on  the  associahility  and  comparability  of  their  sensations. 
The  examination  of  the  different  senses  in  detail  with 
the  view  of  determining  their  relative  value  in  this 
respect  is  part  of  the  problem  which  forms  the  subject 
of  the  present  i?ook ;  but  one  or  two  general  remarks  on 
the  subject  may  be  made  at  present. 

I.  The  two  properties  of  associahility  and  compara- 
bility evidently  coincide   in    general,   those  sensations, 
which  can  be  most  dearly  discriminated  and  identified, 
being   the    most    powerfully   suggestive    and    the    most 
readily  suggestible.      Accordingly  the  mental  value  of 
sensations  may  sometimes,  with  sufficient  accuracy,  be 
estimated  by  dis/i/ia  representability.     For  as  representa- 
tion is  imjwssible  without  suggestion,  and  as  the  distinct 
representation  of  anything  implies  that  it  can  be  clearly 
discriminated  and  identified,  the  distinct  representai)ility 
of  a  sensation  may  be  taken  as  a  convenient,  though  not 
a  complete,  expression  of  its  associabiiity  and  compara- 
bility.     These   two   qualities,    moreover,    enable  us  to 
interpret  the  language  which  ascribes  a  superior  refine- 
ment,    intellectual    or   moral,   to   some   sensations   over 
others.       For    the    as  ociaiion    and    comparison    of   a 
sensation  with  others  imply  that  the  consciousness  is 
raised  above  the  gro.io   ict  of  sense,  and  occupied  with 
an  act  of  thought—a  relation.      This  power  of  rising 
above   the  mere  animal  sensibility  is  what  constitutes 
refinement. 

2.  The  associabiiity  and  comparability  of  a  sensation 
depend  on  the  nature  of  the  other  sensations  with  which 


Ii8 


Psycfwlogy. 


•i 


]    » 


^B 

i    : 

1    '•■ 

B>r         .„ 

MskJ 

■fP"' 

1 

h  Is  associated  and  conipared.     (.,).  Take  associal.ility 
first.     A  sensation  with  low  powers  of  association   will 
associate  more  readily  with  other  sensations  which  are  o^ 
strong  associability.     'I'hus  a  taste,  which  is  of  compara- 
tively slight  mental  value,  is  neither  very  su-gestive  of 
other  tastes  nor  very  readily  suggested  by  them,  but  it 
becomes  at  once  more  suggestive  and  sug-estihle,  if  it  is 
associated   with  a  higher  sensation,   such   as  a  colour. 
W-     The   same   fact   may  be   noticed   in    the  relative 
comparability  of  different  sensations.      The  sensations 
which  do  njt  admit  of  distinct  comparison  with  one 
another,  are  easily  compared  with  any  class  of  sensations 
that  are  in  themselves  more  comparable. 

These  remarks  will  receive  illustration  as  we  proceed 
m  our  analysis  of  the  three  forms  of  mental  activity.  For 
convenience  in  exposition  »«•  -Uall  divide  this  Book  into 
three  PArts. 


s*  "^-v 


Cognitions, 


119 


PART  I. 


COGNITIONSL 

THOUGH  the  more  technical  term,  Cofrnitton,  has 
come  into  general  use  for  the  class  of  phenomena 
investigated  in  this  Part,  yet  we  shall  frequently  recur  to 
the  familiar  word,  knowledge,  using,  where  necessary,  the 
plural,  kn&ivledges,  which,  though  commonly  abandoned 
in  modern  English,  wns  employed  by  older  writers.  As 
cognate  with  the  substantive,  cognition,  it  may  often  be 
convenient  to  use  the  verb,  cognise,  and  the  adjective, 
cognitive. 

In  classifying  the  phenomena  of  cognition,  the  most 
natural  principle  of  guidance  would  be  to  follow  the 
natural  evolution  of  human  intelligence.  The  course  of 
such  an  evolution  is  not  so  easily  traced  as  in  the  case  of 
many  among  the  simpler  and  more  palpable  phenomena 
of  external  nature;  for,  as  the  subsequent  analysis  will 
show,  the  principal  forms  of  intelligence  are,  to  a  certain 
extent,  developed  simultaneously.  At  the  same  time  it 
'.o  not  impossible  to  discover  the  order  in  which  the  most 
distinctly  marked  varieties  of  cognition  tend  to  reach  a 
certain  degree  of  maturity.  Naturally  the  developing 
intelligence  apprehends  h:s':  of  all  the  individual  sensible 


\\v 


#'« 


';i: 
% 


W 


■  m 


\20 


/\ri//(i/(}t^y 


till 


it ; 


V 


ohjoct.       V\\\n  iii  the  rogniJi,m  l.»  wliirh  the 
IVivoption  is  now  rommuiily  nppliiMl.     Tl 
is  thr  rot\«cpfi<>it  of  n  rluss,  -  || 


nnmo  of 


\e  next  Ningc 


doRCiil>cd  by  such    tci 


\o  inti'lloctiiii!   nriivily 


ms  i\%  (trncnili-  iiion.      Rnniii 


nloiijjMvIc  of  these  roj^nilions,  hiil    hi 


"K 


cvolniiiin,  is  the  proress  of  Rci 
ns»oiuls  (loin   the   in»livi.l\t,il   »o  the  «:l.i 


CM-   in    its  (hsiinct 
■^onini>,  l»y  which  ih.Mij-.hl 


ss,   or  (U'src 


nds 

fVoiu  the  rl.iss  to  the  iiuhvidiutl,  with  n  rotis.  ioiisiioss  of 
the  reason  for  its  aseent  or  (h'sernl.  Lastly,  there  is  nn 
netivifv  of  intelhoenee  which  apprchetnls  the  universal 
in  the  particular,  the  geneial  atlnhiUes  of  the  class  in 
nuhvulual  lorm  ;  and  tins  may,  wiih  suMicienl   ac«inacy 


at  present,  ho  deseriheil  as  l.h-ahsal 


ion.      Uesides  these 


normal  lunctions  of  intelli^>ence,  it  will  he  advisable  to 
examine  some  of  those  fanniiar  ilhisions  whi«  I 
the  appearanci^  of  cogtntion.      Kach   of  tl 


den^ands  a  separate  chapter  lor  satisfactory  d 


1  siundale 
ihjeets 


icse  SI 


and  we  shall  then  proceed,  in  a  com  ludiuK  <1 
sunntiarise  tlu-  results,  to  which  the  di 


y  (liseussum 


g  <hapter,  to 
scussion  of  these 


subjects   points,   in    regard    to    llic  gcncml   nature 
knowledge. 


of 


Ptntption, 


12\ 


CHAI'TKR  I. 


PRRCK  l»  IION. 

''\^\\V,  word  Prnrpiion.  likr  i(n  T,nfln  orl^jnnt,  wfl«, 
1  in  cmlicr  i.liiNw.phJml  wril,ng^,  nnd  is  still,  I,,' 
rommr,n  Rpcch.  rmpl^yrd  in  n  son.cwiial  loosrr  RrnHo 
/■or  nny  kind  of  kn.mlcdgr.  ,it  least,  if  it  Ih  appnrrntly 
nnnirdialc,  l!mt  is,  if  it  ,|„r'H  not  «cern  to  imply  any  very 
l('"«»liy  proct-s,,  f„r  its  att;.innirnt.  In  more  rr,  cnt  times 
I'owever,  it  lias  come  to  be  limifrd.  in  Knj/lish  pl,iK,so- 
pliicnl  lilcratiire,  to  the  knr.wiedge  of  an  individual 
«cnsil,le  ol,j,.(:l,  this  limitation  having  prol.al.ly  heen 
Im.iight  ahout  n.ai.dy  l,y  the  influence  of  the  Scottish 
Sehooi.* 

The  per(epfi..n  of  an  ohjrct,  espcc  ially  thro,.gh  ihr 
sense  of  sight,  Hcrnis,  to  the  ordinary  ronsciousness  the 
most  simple  of  cogM-tions.-the  direct  presentation  of  an 
object  to  the  mind  throufd,  the  (  hanntls  of  sense,  '/his 
r.)gnition  has,  therefore,  long  withstood  the  effo.ts  of 
psychological  analysis;  and  an  appeal  against  su<  h 
(-•nrorts  ha.  been  repeatedly  made,  even  in  recent 
philosophy,  to  the  comnu>n  sense,  to  the  universal  and 


;  An  inlerentlng  note  by  Sir  Willinm   IF.un;i,on  on  the  history  of 
this  word  w.U  be  found  i„  his  edili.u.  of  Kad's  Works,  p.  876. 


13a 


Psychohgy, 


11 


I 


inos.sflMe  ronvhMi.m.  orrnrn  ♦  h  will  flppr.ir,  howrvrr, 
on  rx;wn.nation.  ihai  even  iho  5in,|.lr^t  i.rt  of  prncpiioti 
implies  hoth  «s.vMiati,»M  nnd  .  ..inpniison,  nnd  tl.rrcforrft 
''"'"»»n«n<)n  of  domcm.  which  arc  n«su,  iatal  niui  :„„,. 
parc«l, 

'lo    tnakc  this   cvidrnt,    let    n^   tnko   n   very    «itnplc 
I'Civoi>lion  hy  way  „(  ,»  g,M>rnil  illusln.tion.     The  prrrrp- 
tion  <>(  the  taste  ,.f  an  apple  lu.nishes  a  h.hmI  rxa.nple. 
I"   •'»    tiMMieiuilir    .ninil    the    prncptioii    will    «ppr;,r 
simply  as  the  iininctliate  cognilioti  of  an  ..hjeet  reveale.l 
through  the  sense  of  taste.     Ih.t  the  tnoinent  nciVntilif 
nnalys.!,  set.  to  work  on  the  por.eplion.  it  diseloRcs  n 
inneh  more  .■oM<pli,ated  ron.posiiion.     For  it  l.e.-on.cs 
at  onec  evident   that    the   sense  of   taste,    I.y   itsrif    is 
altogether  ineompetcnt  to  give  even  su.h  a  simple  cog- 
nilion,  or  indeed  any  other  cognition  wliatcver.     I.solatc 
the  sense  of  taste  from  other  sources  of  iinloimation,  in 
order  to  find  what  it  conirilnites  to  our  knowledge  ;  and 
whiU  IS  the  result  ?     What  are  we  conscious  of  in  tasting? 
Merely   of   the  sensation,-thc  mental  phenomenon,— 
that  we  call  a  taste.     Hut  to  understand  the  full  purport 
ot   this,    observe   what   it   implies;    and    what   we  are 
conscious  of  may  perhaps  be  moat  fully  brought  to  view 
by  pointing  out  what  we  -irc  t:ot  conscious  of  in  tasting. 

I.  We  are  not  conscious,  by  taste  ahme,  of  any  sapid 
property  ir.  a  body,-of  any  property  by  reason  of  which 
II  IS  capable  of  exciting  a  sensation  of  taste.  It  is 
necessary  to  beat  this  cor  .tantly  in  mind  on  account  of 
the  ambiguity  i.  the  word  taste.  Uke  the  names  of 
other  sensations,  such  as  smell,  colour,  sound,  and  heat, 


*  f  r  '^^  ^''''*-'^'*''^  o»  <*^  Philosophy  of  Common  Seme,  by  Sii 
W.  Uanulton,  api>e!uleil  to  his  edition  of  Neids  IVor^s. 


Pevcrplioii, 


123 


taste  in  iisrd  Imth  U^t 


a  «rnt;ifion  and  for  the  cxtrrn.il 


C-a...o  l.y  whi.  h  Ihn  Nrnsalicn  is  prorlurcd.  Now,  wc  ore 
""""•<I''"<ly  *nnH,io„«  of  if.c  «rn^ntioM  wl.-.h  wc  mil  « 
•'••^•e  :  UU  what  that  I.,  in  n  h<„ly,  whir},  cxritc.  the 
N.-nsalm„.  r,.„h|  never  he  discovcfe<l  hy  any  „hc  of  the 
«<nse  of  laste  nlone.-ran  he  (lis,  overed  only  f,y  those 
•*-H«'ar<  he,  of  the  rhe.nist,  which  rail  into  j.Iay  various 
<nher  «cn«cH  and  f..eullicH  of  iiitolli^:rrK;c. 

a.  VVc  arc  not  <(m.srion..  l.y  taste  alone,  of  any  hody 
nt  a  I.  A  b  Miy  i«  a  thin^  that  occupies  space,  and 
rcHiHtB  <,nr  clTo.ts  to  displace  i,  fron.  the  npace  o<:cnpied  ; 
»>"t  It  need  Hcarctly  he  said  that  neither  s.mce  nor 
rcsistrnce  can  he  tasted. 

3-  It  followH  horn  this  that  taste  of  itsjf  aives  xx% 
n.rormation.  not  even  of  our  own  hody,  nor-^it  is  almost 
need  eHs  to  add-^of  any  organ  in  onr  hody.  thn.u.h 
wh,(:h  we  afterward,  learn  that  the  sensations  of  taste  arc 
icreived. 

ir,  then,  in  the  mere  act  of  tasting,  our  consciousness 
IS  limited  to  the  sensation  excited,  it  may  he  ;,sked,  how 
do  we  eome  to  to7/,,-to  perceive  anything  by  the  sense 
ofjaste  at   all?      To   answer   this   question,   we    mu.t 
understand  all  that  a  sensation  involves.     Now,  it  is  true 
that   m  us  abstract  indeterminatcness,  a  sensation  may 
'e  descrd>cd  as  a  purely  subjective  condition  of  mind 
Jh.t  as  a  concrete  fact  of  mental  life,  it  is  a  fact  of  which 
we  must  be  conscious,  and  to  say  that  we  are  conscious 
of  .t  IS  merely  another  way  of  saying  that  it  is  an  object 
known.      1  he  consciousness  of  a  sensation  may,  indeed. 
ake  a  variety  of  forms.     The  sensation  may  be  such, 
t^hat  Its  pleasurable  or  painful   character  becomes   pre- 
dommant ;  and  then  the  consciousness  appears  as  nK-re 
feelmg.     JJut  the  pleasure  or   pain   felt  may  act  as  a 
•tiuiulus  to  the  will,  and  then  a  conscious  volition  is  the 


If- 


124 


Psychology. 


11! 


% 


»  Si 


;h|l 


11 


result.     If,  however,  the  pleasure  or  pain  excited  by  a 
sensation  is  subordinate  to  the  information  communicated 
the  consciousness  has  risen  to  a  cognitive  act.     It  will' 
therefore,  appear  by  and  by,  that  sensations  of  absorbing 
intensity,  however  ir.portant  ii   view  of  the  contributions 
they  make  to  the  pleasures  and  pains  of  human  life  are 
comparatively   valueless  for    the    purposes    of   human 
knowledge ;  while  nearly  all  our  information  about  the 
world  in  which  we  live  is  based  on  sensations  which  if 
not  absolutely  neutral  in  quality,  are  at  least  so  faintly 
pleasurable  or  painful,  that  the  consciousness,  instead  of 
being  absorbed  in  our  subjective  condition,   may  con- 
template  that  condition  with  the  same  calm  disinterested- 
ness  as  if  it  were  an  objective  fact. 

The  truth  is  that,  in  being  conscious  of  a  sensation,  it 
becomes   to   us,   not  merely  a  subjective  state,  but  an 
object  of  knowledge.     This  objectification  of  sensations 
implies,  of  course,  that  we  distinguish  an  object  known 
from  ourselves  who  know  it.      Ho^  t^ose  antithetical 
Ideas   of  self  and   notself  are   originally  formed    is  a 
problem  that  must  be  reserved  for  subsequent  discussion 
At  the  present  stage  it  need  only  be  observed  that  in 
some  way  or  other,  this  distinction  is  rendered  possible 
Now,  it  IS  this  distinction  that  constitutes  the  first  step  in 
the  evolution  of  knowledge ;  for  I  cannot  be  said  to 
know  until  I  am  conscious  of  something  that  is  not  I 
that  is  known  by  me.     But  whenever  anything  becomes 
to  me  an  object,  it  may  be  brought  info  those  combina. 
tions  and  comparisons  which  constitute  all  our  cognitions 
in    their    various    degrees    of  complexity.      To   these 
combinations  and  comparisons  we  now  proceed;  but  it 
Lhould   be   observed   that,   even  at   this  stage,  an  act 
of  comparison  has  been  performed;  for  the  discrimination 
of  self  and  notself  is  a  consciousness  of  difference. 


Perception.  jjj 

Proceeding  in  the  analysis  of  the  simple  perception 
«uli  which  we  set  out,-the  perception  of  the  taste  of  an 
appie,-we  immediately  detect  further  acts  of  comparison 
mvolved.     To  Icnow  this  sensation  as  the  taste  of  an 
apple,   implies   both   a  cognition   of  difference  and   a 
cognmon  of  identity._in  fact,  a  twofold  cognition  of 
each       For,   in   the    first    place,   I  cannot  Icnow  the 
sensation  to  be  a  taste,  without  distinguishing  it  from 
o  her  sensations  which  are  not  tastes;  nor,  still  further, 
can  I  know  it  to  be  the  taste  of  an  apple,  withou 
distinguishing  ,t  from  tastes  which  are  produced  l^y  other 
substances.      We  may  leave  out  of  consideration  tl" 
case  in  which  my  perception  may  be  more   specially 
discrimmative    by   my    knowledge    of   the    difference 
between  the  tastes  of  varieties  of  apples.     But,  in  the 
second   place,    I  cannot  know  this  sensation  to  be  a 
taste,  exce|,t  by  identifying   it  with  similar  sensations 
experienced  before,  and  known  to  be  tastes;  while  the 
more  definite  perception  of  the  taste  as  being  the  taste 
of  an  apple  implies  that  I  have  identified  it  with  previous 
tastes  which  I  knew  to  be  produced  by  that  fruit 

But  what  is  implied  in  these  acts  of  comparison  ?    I, 
.s  evidently  impossible  to  compare  a  present  sensation 

\^^TT\1''"'  ''-''  ''  "^^  ^"••-  °f  discrimi  at 
>ng  or  of  Identifying,  unless  these  sensations  are  repro- 

duced  m  my  present  consciousness  by  suggestion.  This 
ZZV:r  "'  °"'^  '"'"''"'  °f-SSestion  in  the  fori 
tobe  ,h  f  ''^7""°"-  *■«  -h-  I  perceive  a  taste 
o  be  the  taste  of  an  apple,  I  associate  the  taste  with 
hose  general  appearances  which  an  apple  presents.  But 
these  appearances  are  somewhat  complex.    They  contain 

— ness  and     ardness,  received  from  touch  and  the 


sense 


\PV    I 


nvoi 


ju^ 


li 


aiou  visuui  laeas, — ideas  of 


126 


Psychology. 


lyii 


colour  red,  green,  or  russet,  according  to  the  variety  of 
apple  that  most  readily  recurs  to  the  mind.  This  com- 
plex association  of  muscular,  tactile,  and  visual  ideas  is 
tiierefore  also  suggested  in  the  perception  of  the  taste  of 
an  apple.  The  perception  involves  some  additional  ele- 
ments of  a  more  difficult  nature ;  but  these  need  not  be 
discussed  here. 

It  is  scarcely  possible  to  hit  upon  a  perception  more 
s.mpk  m  appearance  than  that  which  has  been  selected 
for  Illustration  ;  yet  even  this  perception  is  seen  to  in- 
volve considerable  complexity.     It  is  true  that  this  com- 
plexity IS  brought  to  light  only  by  such  an  analysis  as 
that  which  we  have  gone  through ;  and  consequently  the 
young  observer  finds  it  difficult,  in  sptte  of  the  analysis 
^  aumit  such  complexity  in  an  act  which  seems  so  simple' 
To  remove  this  difficulty  he  must  remember  that  such 
perceptions  were  not  always  so  simple  as  they  are  now. 
The  perceptions,  which  appear  absolutely  simple  to  the 
intelligence  of  maturity,  are  evidently,  in  childhood,  the 
result  of  tentative,  hesitating  intellectual  efforts,  such  as 
we  are  conscious  of  in  later  years,   when  we  seek  to 
become  acquainted  with  a  novel  set  of  phenomena  - 
to  master  a  new  language  or  a  new  science.     Moreover 
the  secondary  laws  of  suggestion  show  that  mental  acts 
come  to  reproduce  themselves  more  readily  by  repetition 
especially  in  uniform  associations,  till  they  may  becon^e 
absolutely  instantaneous  ;  and  it  is  in  virtue  of  this,  that 
the  tentative  hesitancy  of  infantile  observations  disappears 
with  the  growth  cf  disciplined  intelligence. 

After  this  exposition  of  the  general  process  by  which 
perceptions  are  formed,  we  proceed  to  the  examination 
of  the  special  perceptions  which  we  ewe  to  the  several 
senses.  Here,  again,  the  exposition  should  most  appro- 
priately follow  the  natural  evolution  of  intelligence   if 


Ptrceftion.  ,^7 

that  evolution  could  be  traced  with  certainty  On  such 
a  pnnaple  we  should  begin  „i.l,  ,he  vaguest  fo,™  of 
genera!  sensibility,  and  follow  our  nercep  ons  a    ,hn 

ZS"^'  '^.^"""^'^  *"  conne '.U^i  h  the  IZ 
distinctly  dtfrerentmted  forms  of  special  sensibility     Eu 

oeveloped  and  consequently  there  is  a  convenience  in 
begmn,ng  the  exposition  with  these.     Ther"TsTf"mh« 

mrcruri"  """^ ''-'  '"^^^  ^^-^  which  ire  ot: 

nee  saru!  o'f  a  '  'kT"''  "  "'^  P""."'-^  »- 
Thnl    I-  u  "'"'=''  '"'  complicated  character  thin 

If    ul       ""  '""'  °"  ^*"^'"'°-  '"="  readily  a  mi 
of  numerous  associations  and  comparisons.    We  sh!^ 


8  »• — Perceptions  of  Taste. 

In  man  generally,  as  contrasted  with  the  brute  nn^  • 
civihsed  man  especially,  as  contrasted  wi  h    h^'sava  " 
even  the  sense  of  taste,  though  lowest  of  all  T.       ^  ' 

.appears  as  if  the  men,  of  the  lowest  savag     a  pIS  hfd' 
m  a  dtsgustmg  degree,  the  character  of  p„rdy  animf; 

L" ::;' "o";  m""  "^  '^"'™'^^  °^  civiiisarJiTo™;' 

" ^  '"*^"  ■^^S'^^e  oi  «icety,  the  delicate 


128 


Psychology, 


I: 


llli! 

fn*. 


pecu  unties  of  the  viands  and  beverages  in  which  he 
mdUges;  while  the  gastronomy  of  a  luxurious  life  is 
based  on  a  certain  amount  of  scientific  art  in  the 
cuhnary  preparation  of  food,  .s  well  as  in  the  order  in 
which  dishes  and  wines  are  served  so  as  to  give  the 
largest  play  to  the  discriminative  sensibility  of  taste 

It  may    be  interesting  to  add   here,   that   the  same 
tendency  of  civilisation  in  regard  to  the  pleasures  of  the 
table  is  exhibited  in  a  variety  of  other  ways.     Ii  appears 
in  many,  if  not  all,  of  the  customs  which  regulate  meals 
evermore  prominently  with  the  progress  of  wealth  and 
culture.      The  ancient  Pagan  custom  of  making  sacri- 
fices  or  libations  to  the  gods,  and  the  Christian  custom 
of  saying  grace,  at  meals;  the  formal  ceremony,  which 
imparts  a    certain   degree   of    human    dignity   to    the 
proceedmgs ;   the  music,  and  the  decorations  of  room 
and  table,  by  which  the  higher  senses  are  gratified  ;  the 
more  purely  intellectual  enjoyment  of  conversation,— the 
"Attic  salt"  with  which  the  meal  of  educated  men  is 
spiced;— all   these   indicate   the  tendency   of  civilised 
man  to  raise  the  act  of  eating  above  the  character  of  a 
merely  animal  act.     In  fact,  from  the  artistic  setting  in 
which  even  the  grossest  meats  may  be  served,  it  would 
almost   seem   as   if  mere   gustatory   sensation   were  to 
become  a  vanishing  fraction  of  the  enjoyments  of  the 
table. 

All  men  learn  to  discriminate  the  more  marked 
differences  of  taste,  especially  in  articles  of  food,  and  can 
thereby  often  detect  the  presence  of  substances  which  are 
not  readily  perceptible  by  other  senses.  But  if  the 
attention  is  specially  directed  to  the  minuter  differences 
of  tasie,  a  delicacy  of  perception  may  be  reached  which 
is  sometimes  of  service,  not  only  to  the  gourmand  in  the 
pursuit  of   '^asure,  but  in  the  serious  business  of  life  to 


Perception.  J2g 

mher?.'"'lfh"'t  ™'"«  ""-="»»•-  'h«  oil  merchant,  and 

P  c  Ption  r  ^''""TT"^  "^''  "'^^"  •-' »°-  distinct 
perception  ,s  des.red,  the  sensibility  of  the  tongue  is 

mcreased  by  passing  sapid  bodies  over  its  surface-one 
of  the  numerous  instances  in  whicl,  muscular  activity 
comes  to  the  aid  of  passive  sensibility  ^ 

The  mtellectual  element,  involved  in  the  perceptions 
of  taste,  explains  the  common  figure  of  speech,  byS 

an.„::e?'  "'""f^  '"^^^  P^^P'--  '"  'various 
languages,  are  transferred  to  cognitions  which  have  no 
connecfon  wuh  sense.  Thus  the  word  tasle  in  our 
own  language,  and  its  equivalent  in  others,  is  used  fo 

subhme.      The  Greek  term  for  whdom,  ..^.„,  as  we  see 

wh"e  "s^"",""'"'  '"'""'"^  'i'erlllyl^ans"!: 
while,  m  several  passages  in  which  the  English  version 
represents  exactly  the  original,  the  Scriptures  describ    by 
this  expression  the  purest  acts  of  man's  spirit  t 


•"I  knew  a  person  who  possessed  the  one  (Ihe  sense  of  f,..  i 

particular  sort  which  was  offered  him  •  and  not  Z         1    ' 
two  sorts  of  (hem  \W     ju.r        ■     ,         '  ''"'^  ^"'  ^"^  any 

hascarri  d   he  el    taen  ir?"  '^"°'  '^T""-- '  -y.  he 

of  three  different  Lr-rnrrihrvaTcir^ri::::;?,":" 
••T:.edr.::tr;ent;ir '"'"  '^  ^°i  ■;  <;-'"  -^■•^-  «>  > 

God  "  (Heb.  vi.  4-  O.  *    *    '     '  '''^  Sood  word  o/ 


•r; 


li 


I 


iiii 


nu 


lUit,  after  all,  the  intellectual  canabil 


sliglit,  when  contrasted  with   those  of  the  other 


capabilities  of  taste  are 


specinl 


senses;   that  is   to  say,   its  sensations   are  not  readily 
associahle  or  comparable. 

I.  The  associahilitv  of  tastes  with  tastes  is,  indeed   iin- 
phod  in  every  idcntification-recognition-of  a  taste':  but 
this  IS  association  of  that  simple  sort  which  is  involved 
in  the  very  possibiht^  u-'  knowledge.      It  is  merely  the 
revival  Of  a  previous  s    .Mtion  through  suggestion  by  a 
present  sensation  which  is  identical  with  it  in  nature  •  in 
other  words,  it  is  suggestion   by  the  Law  of  Similarity. 
JJut  the  association  of  tastes  by  the  Law  of  Contiguity  is 
probably  very   slight.       We   seldom,  if  ever,    have   an 
instance  of  one  taste  suggesting  another  merely  on  the 
ground  of  their  having  been  in  consciousness  at  the  same 
time.     1  he  association  of  a  taste,  however,  with  ideas  of 
a  more  intellectual   sense  like  sight  is   more   marked. 
T  hus  a  taste  will  readily  recall  the  visual  appearance  of 
a  sap.d  body;  but  this  illustrates  the  associability,  not  of 
tastes,   but  of  sights.      This,   too,   is  the  only  form  in 
Which  Ideas  of  space  associate  with  tastes.      Abstract 
space-position    or    distance-is    incapable    of    beine 
perceived  through  the  medium  of  this  sense." 
^    n.  Tastes  do  not  admit  of  companion  with  ease      It 
IS  true,  that  the  analysis  of  a  simple  perception  in  the 
introductory  part  of  this  chapter  has  proved  that  everv 
recognition  of  a  taste  implies  its  power  of  being  identified 
and    discriminated.      But   this   power,   >.hether  in  the 
presentation  or  in  the  representation  of  tastes,  is  ex- 
tremely limited. 

I.  In  presentation  simultaneous  tastes  can  scarcely  be 
distinguished   at  all ;  and  even  r,  succession  of  tastes 
though  not  very  rapid,  soon  confounds  the  sense      It  is 
by  this  means,  in  fact,  that  we  all  learn  from  childhood 


Perception. 


>3« 

to  neutralise  a  nauseous  taste  by  saturating  the  mouth 
wuh  a  SH-eet  substance  beforehand,  and  thus  destrovin« 
for  a  t,n,e  >,s  sensibility  to  any  „,her.  I„  .his  e  p/Jf 
very  marked  contrast  is  furnished  hv  .ho  "^ 

.ouch,  hearing,  and  sight.  ^^1^^^^ 
only  ,n  very  rapid  succession  =»"nguisnab]e 

ne.s      In  the  representation  of  beautiful  sights  or  tones 

u    uy    me    original    sensations;    but   no   such 
ple^ure  .s  ever  experienced  in   the  r;presentaU  of 

"0«'>o 

Can  cloy  ihe  hnngry  edge  of  ap,,elite 
«y  bare  imagination  of  a  feasl  V 

The  result  is  that  the  common  furniture  of  ideas  with 
wh,chthe  human  mind  is  stocked,  is  derived  onTv  To^ 
very  shght  extent  from  the  sense  ^f  taste      In  m'^  , 
t^n  of  this  it  has  been  asserted  by  J.^  that  L  drer 
ingof  afeast  we  never  dVeam  of  tasting,  but  merelvof 
^eemg  the  vands.«     Inquiry,  it  is  true,  proves  "hit  thl 
assertion  .s  too  sweeping,  though  it  accords  I^  m  ' 'e 
sonal  expenence.    Still  it  is  certain  that  tastes  occ?Dvr„ 
.ns,gn,ficant  place  among  the  pictures  that  make^o^e 
conscousness  of  dreams  or  of  waking  lifl    a„d  cont 
quently  rmagination  is  seldom  sent  wan'deri^g  amonr.he 
mental  stores  of  a  revivable  past  by  any  impulse  ^hfchi 
receives  from  memories  of  taste. 

It  is  not,  therefore,  difficult  to  explain  why  the  percen 
..ons  of  taste  provide  but  a  ^-  -der  portion'of  the'imlg: 

.io:°:.tn;xiti:r''s«  ^if  r^  -fi™  Longe..  ..^,. 


I  i»li- 


132 


'■' 

1 

f » 

w 

I' 

m 

'M 

nm 

' 

'M 

Psychology, 


r 


it; 


li!,. 


Pli;- 
Ifi) 

I 


ery  wl.lrh  forms  the  materials  of  poetic  art.  The  dcscrip- 
tions  of  bancjuets,  in  which  poetry  in.h.lges  at  times,  give 
anahnost  exclusive  prominence  to  those  aspects  of  the 
occasion,  which  have  been  already  noticed  as  prevailing 
ever  more  and  more  at  the  meals  of  civilised  men.  It  is 
the  ijlory  of  the  festal  pomp,  the  visual  gratification  in 
artistic  groupings  of  colour  and  form,  the  rank  or  beauty 
of  the  guests,  the  light  play  ^i  intellect,  and  the  gush  ol 
social  Iceling, — 

"  The  feast  of  reason  and  the  flow  of  soul  j " 

such  are  the  factors  of  the  bantpiet  which  the  poet  se- 
lects as  alone  suitable  for  his  purpose.  If  the  meats  and 
drmks  are  introduced  into  the  description,  except  per- 
haps  in  the  poetry  of  a  coarser  age,  their  gustatory  effect 
IS  Ignored,  they  are  noticed  only  in  their  picturescpie 
aspect  as  forming  parts  a  a  beautiful  scone.*  Perhaps 
an  approach  to  aesthetic  enjoyment  in  gustatory  gratifi- 
cation IS  experienced  in  the  order  of  tastes  prescribed  by 
a  skillul  g.istrcnomy, — 

••  What  order  so  contrived  as  not  to  mix 
Tastes  not  well-joined  inelegant,  hut  bring 
Taste  after  taste  upheld  with  kindliest  change." 

This  may  give  to  tastes  a  place  in  the  poetry  of  a  ruder 


In  .Uustrntion  of  this  Mr.  Grant  Allen  has  cited  three  weU 
kno«-n  descriptions  from  Milton,  Keats,  and  Tennyson  {Physiolo^i 
<al  .^sOuUcs,  pp.  260..).  Similar  passages,  some  l,riefer.  3c,n.e 
more  elaborate,  might  be  adduced  both  from  ancient  and  from  mo- 
dern  hterature.  It  is  remarkable  that  even  a  humorous  description, 
with  so  much  mere  animal  gusto  as  Kurns'  verses  To  a  Ha.ois 
should  not  once  mention  the  taste  of  the  dish  it  celebrates,  bui 
collect  Its  imager:,  exclusively  from  the  visual  appearance  of  the 
dish,  jnd  Its  remoter  suggestion!. 


1  ■! 


^^'—PeneptionsofStnell. 
As  a  result  of      h    1         7"  """""'^  ""•"  '"  -"•--"• 

».-» i»  of  :.L '  •gr:':,:,^:: ""''"'"" ""  '^-^^  -' 

information  about  .1      .        ?  ""^•■'"'  "'  o'-laining 

'-ent,  the  pleasantness  or  unple.    "to,,    f  "  f"^  ""  ""^ 
"■siKnincant ;  he  examine    „  17  ''"""  '""'■' 

'oathesome    .utre.rn  ^nT  ''^""^  ^''""''"  » 

he  learn,  m  '      f^    '""  '^"<'  a  fragrant  perf.ime.     But 

tHet::Lrre :  :^ri;!!r':  «'v™"^  '""^  ^'"^"  ■'- 

often  eatch  .  doZZf.,  '"'''"''■     ^°"  ""^ 

look  of  ignorance  trd:2L?:r;''''  '"^  '"''''"' 
to  see  distinctly     but  hil   Z       v  "  "'^'"'  ^"""t'h 

by  a  whiff  of  od„r  ■'  y^'f "'"°"  •»  -l-Wed  a.  once 
"ilh  a  keen  scent  L,  u  i  '  f«><=''<''"gy  of  animals 
•heir  wor  d  as  ot  in  "'  r'^'^"'  "'"^  '^""''  "-"'''e 

.-ace  that  Si;.:"::;;';:!:::""  "-^■^  "•«"-"-■" 

H^^^er  senses  on,earin,a:d';;r:^-:rrter.;:: 


134 


Psychology. 


(lie  neproes  of  the  Antilles  ran  distinguish  by  smell  the 
foi.lstcp  of  a   negro  from  that  of  a    Frenchman  ;  and, 
««<o'«linK  to   Iliimholdt,   the  same   sense   enables   the 
IVruv.an  Indians  to  tell,  when  a  stran.i^er  is  approaching, 
whether  he  is  an  Indian,  an  ICiiropcan,  or  a  negro.     In 
nvilised  communiiics,  also,  it  is  a  remarkable  fact,  that 
persons  of  a  low  mental  type  exhibit  the  same  charac- 
toristic.      Idiots    are   often   observed   examining   other 
persons  by  their  odour  ;  •  and  it  is  a  curious  fact,  that  a 
keen  scent  for  human  flesh  is  commonly  ascribed  to  the 
giants  of  folk  lore,   who  are    probably  the  survivals   in 
popular  tradition  of  those  types  of  uncultured  brute  force, 
hclongmg   to   an   earlier    civilisation,    with    which   the 
lugher  races  must  have  come  into  conflict  in  prehistoric 
nines.     But  the  tendency  of  civilisation  is  to  disuse  the 
sense  of  smell  as  a  means  of  perception,  and  to  resort  to 
It  merely  for  its  delicate  gratifications,  t     This  is  signifi- 
cantly mdicated  in  the  fact,  that  language  has  no  names 
fwr  d.stmct   kinds  of  smell,    like  the   terms  by   which 
colours  and  sounds,  and  even  tastes,  are  distinguished. 
Odours  are  designated  simply  by  their  agreeable  or  dis- 
agreeable quality,  as  perfumes  or  stenches. 


•  Maudsley's  Physiohi>y  of  the  Mind,  p.  215. 

+  Certain  difTorences  in  ihe  organ  of  smell  among  civilised  men 
«nd  savnges  are  obvious.  Even  tlie  external  shape-the  extraor- 
dmary  breadih-of  the  nose  in  some  of  the  lower  races  seems  to 
pomt  to  a  larger  expansion  of  the  nasal  membrane.  But  negroes 
often  exhibit  an  additional  peculiaiity.  In  men  generallv  the 
lutenor  of  the  nostrils  is  convoluted  into  three  meatuses  by  the  three 
t..rbmated  bones.  In  the  negro  there  is  often  found  a  fourth  mentus 
above  the  superior  turbinated  bone,  implying  a  considerable  increase 
of  sensitive  surface.  I  cannot  find,  however,  that  observations 
h.ive  ihscovered  any  corresponding  enlargement  of  the  olfactory 
bulb.  ' 


\u 


Perception,  ,3^ 

"H  wl..'n  ,1, '  ! , '         1'  '"""  l'"-'--"'nnl  r.,.,,„irc.„„.„„. 

'        I  no   pcdilmr    cdiirnldn,    lo   whirl,   c  ... 
'  '••"-'■•r's  n,yslori„„.,  hisK.ry  |,a,|  »„!,  er  e  I  T  n  '"■"■ 

"'      some     ln,.n,:„r„       I'  ,  '  '"'"'J'-'^"-'!  »"n,  .It  <;,  ,M  ,|| , 

'•'"••d  of  hi,,,    n/  tt         ,      """"  """^'  '^"'»  ■'  '■"  ^«- 

li^e  .si^iu  im  ,,hiiic  .i"rTo  \   """""•■""  »^-"- 

increased  rcfinciiiL'nt  of  the  oihr-ra       ti  , 

besides  a  a.„,a,kal,ic.  kecnnl     r  """  '"'^^^■'^^'•■•'' 

presence  of  a  stranwr  in  „  f        '       '  ""'>'  ">« 

in  which  he  s>o  r'and  he  i"'""'     "  "'^"  ""^  "'»'""" 

be  the  sense  on  wJ>;,.j.     i  '      '  ^"  ^^'^''"'^  ^<> 

-rythi,ril^V    :^' c^:  r ^  ^^^^         Shes,nel.sat 

sense;   and  she   har/  ^^'  '"^'''"   ^'^"«^'   ^^  ^^-• 

she  has  co.ne   to  perceive  odours  utterly 

*  DujraKi  Stewart's  Works    Vol    .V  .•  ~ 

edition).  '   ^'''-  *^-»  PP'  3^-316  (Ilamilton'g 

t  /^iV.,  p.  335,  note. 


13^ 


Psycholopy, 


w 


%s 


m  . 


"^u,s,l,e  to  olluT  pc,.„„,.     \VI„.n  ,!,«  meet,  n  pcr,o„ 

"  r:,nK.,-,  s|,o  s,„ells  l.is  l„„d  ;  .,,,1  ,lu.  i,„|,,osi„„  i,  s„ 
MroiiK  Ihal  slir  ,-,„,  r.-.-.wni/o  him  l„i  ,.  -.i,  I  i  ,,■ 

^  ^-  iun.l,  ,„.  .vn,  l„s  ,;l„v,.,  if  j„si  ,.k<.„  „f|- 

M.o  wa.s  oM,|,l„yc,l  i„  s„,,i„j:  ||,e  ,.,„il,e,  .,,  ,|,o'n„p,ls 

2'  "'7  -;-  "...  of  .he  «..,,  ..„,  ,„„,,  ,„  i, 

•  -V  c.dw,ncMns  ,love  inu.  a  h.^  a„.nhoy  w    :: 

t  H    h.,n,l  „f  i.,,h   person,  ami  unerringly  „ssi..n    cu  h 
Hlove  to  iis  owner."  *  '         " 

The  intellerinal  elen.ont  involved  in  the  per,ep.i„„s  of 
■Im  sense  e.pla  „.s  >he  ngnrntive  appli.-atlons  \,  .,J, 

.   s)  nonyn,.,„s  words  in  oiher  lan«ua,es.     The  wor. 
.'.V'-.v«  ,nv„lve.sa  l,j;nre  .lerivcl  (Von,  sn.ell ;  and  >l,ae 
s  a  snggesuve  hynrc  also,  which  says  of  a  laboured  .iyle. 
that  It  "  smells  ol  the  lamp." 

The  intelleetual  superiority  of  smell  to  taste  may  not 
be  at  once  ol,v,ou.s;  l„u  a  brief  review  of  what  is  in.plied 
..  .  e  tacts  already  cited  will  make  the  superiority  It 
<-"•  """om  referring  again  to  the  associations  a  1 
cotnpansons  that  are.  of  course,  involved  in  all  per" 
tions.  11  may  be  observed  that—  ' 

I.  Smells  are  more  easily  ,„n,/.and  than  tastes  both  in 
presentation  and  in  repre»er;aiion 

t.We^lh,s  „,ay  be  partly  due  to  the  finer  form  of  the 


III 


TZC'  >vl,id,  ,hc  „r,.,n  i,  Mln,„I,„cd.     Wl.ile  -•,.„■ 
1    >    iir  sou, J    (|„„|    ,„|,,|.  „,,li.,,,  .,,,   .,„  . 

w^a.c,::;::;j':::;;:r'''^^-""«-^''e'i  even  in  .„..,,. 

oLservrd    -  n.  '         »^"gnl(l  Stewart  has  justly 

odours  unplic,  ,.;,•„,„     "'"  '"''"'"^  associal.ili.y  of 

"0.tca„,e  o'er  my  ear  lil<e  the  sweet  sound 
Tha    I.rcatJ.osuponabnnkofvioJet., 
hlcalingaiKi  trivi„go(l„ur."t 


■•-.h  "for  ..s'oulf"'  Co   ™:;;he     "'  ""'.'"\'""'  '"''^""■"O 

At  as   a  soft  „„,,  s„k.m„.|,re„hi„g  «>a„d 

Koscl.ke.s,c.a„„f,icMMkdp„'„„« 
And  stole  upon  the  air." 


i 


1.^.8 


Psychology. 


HJ; 


l! 


liiil      f 

i 

If*:  h 


Such  similes  impTv  a  V\r\A  of  ^ 

odour  hunts  out  the  source  from  which  it  omes  n  is 
evident,  therefore,  that,  in  the  perception  of  ^.'0'™.  iw 
smel  accomplishes  what  taste  calnot  do  tta  J; 
_  beyond  our  own  organism,  and  in  sulsiin' 
t  e  distance  or  direction  of  an  odorous  bolu 
g.ves  a  perception  of  abstract  space.     But  vaster  a;so 

with  smel.     In  Tlu  Autocrat  of  t/ii  Breal-f,ut  Taik  Dr 
Holmes  has,  m  his  own  charmin..  way    iil„„r,V7u 

emotional  associations  of  smell  will   h.  „  .      j 
appropriately  in  the  next  part  o    tj  book    Tha   T" 
we,,  said,  therefore,  by  Ro'usseau,  in  contr Ling  ta      ^n'^" 
smell,  that  "taste  is  the  only  sense  which  has  no'h  u.'mo 
say  to  the  im.i!;in.ition.  ^  ^s  notn.ng  to 

-agination  more  than  the' se^sei  a'nd  ^ffrurn'oV » 
much^by  what  they  furnish  as  by  what  they  le^ts  L 

There  is  thus  a  certain  aesthetic  quality  in  odou-s 
which  was  sought  in  vain  in  tastes.      Thfs  is  due,  o) 

•  Emiic,  LiVre  ii.,  near  the  end. 


Perception. 


'39 

•■ourse,  to  that  refinement  which,  a,  already  explained 

bu.  a'l'JXT';  ~'  ''^■' ""'  °"'^  -  -"-■<=• 

ti>ird   Part   of    his   Bonk       tk"^'''   """^  ''""y  "'  "'« 

•here  is    in   taste    vc    f\         T"""  '""''«™>''  ">«• 
indulgeLJ  '         '"''"""    "-^   ""'    *«    sensuous 

§  I'— Perceptions  of  Touch 

u-  .hat  has  been  n,ade  of  thrha'nds      Th"'       "''.  "^ 
not  only  for  the  general  reason  Zf    n  "  '"'^'"'' 

developed  by  practice  but  fr,^  P^'^eptions  are 

sensibilitv  rf  rhlfl      '  ""^  'P''^"''  '•'■^»"  'hat  the 

for  the  protection   of  TU  ~  Id'T'^ 

adjacent  tissues,  (hat  any  part  of  the  Za  1 

^Kh  hard  contacts  devlio'pes  a  th!:  e  tii^ "tm^ 

^-ia.e\Li:'n::::-:rh'-?:ra,tr^ 
-rtn\rLrh™:d-r:r^^^'-^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

»Uh  a  correspondingtfrl'f t: ;'  "^-^"^  -"•^-<' 

anc?:virtr't:rir^.--.'".^^^%'^'^'^^<^  ■•-  --<^- 

-.«.n  vaucucs  of  tactual  sensation, 


140 


Psychology. 


which  were  seen  to  depend   on   different  degrees  of 
pressure  and  on  distinctness  in  the  points  of  pressure, 
lioth  of  these  forms  of  touch  were  shown  to  be  ordinarily 
assocated  w.th  muscular  sensations.     All  the  common 
|.ercep,,ons  of  touch,  therefore,  are  in  reality  muscular 
perce„.,ons  as  well.     In  so  far  as  any  idea  of  moven.en 
■^  involved,  the  perception  is  based  almost  entirely  on 
"  uscula,  sens,b,lity  ;  but  the  sense  of  touch  is  necessarily 
ailed  mlo  play  m  associating  the  movement  with  an  ex- 
raorgan,c  body  in  contact  with  the  skin.     Accordingly, 
n  analysing  the  perceptions  of  touch,  it  must  always  be 
understood,  even  when  it  is  not  explicitly  stated     hat 
musculir  perceptions  are  involved.  ^     "  ^^a-  """ 

(A)  The  perception  of  different  degrees  of  Pressure 
I'.ough  ordinarily  due  to  tho  assistance  nf  Z  ^  ''' 
-.,  nso  !<,  c.ui  .  '■'""•  assistance  Of  the  muscuhr 

_  nse  ,s  st,ll  to  some  extent  a  perception  of  touch  ;  and 
It  has  been  a  read v  observed  tl,,f  .i,»  • 

VVeher  t.n^  .  I  °°^"''^°-  'hat  the  evpermienls  of 
Weber  tend  to  show  that  the  sensibility  of  the  skin  to 
separate  pomts  is  a  fair  standard  of  i[s  sens^i ,';    o 

d  «t  nl'r'""  °?""""-  ■'■''"^  '"^  finger-tips'can 
discummate  .o  03.  from  .g-a  „z.,  while  the  obtuse  fore- 
arm requires  a  difference  of  «  o..  from  .87  oz  before 
It  can  be  perceived.  '  ^ 

In  ordinary  life  a  valuable  perception  connected  with 
this   sensibility   IS    the    delicacy    which   the    physician 
aciuires  in  "  feeling  "  the  pulse  of  a  patient.     The  n  os 
onmton  perceptions  of  this  sort,  however,  are  prol^bh 

handled;  but  as  these  perceptions  involve  a  peculiir 
complication  arising   from   the   use  of  a   tooI,'t   „i 

iLTZTll '"  r""  '"^^ '"'  -^-<^-"'  ex. 

humar  rr  r  [''"'  "'^  °^<^'"-"^  perceptions  of 
human  hfe,  the  blind  will  furnish  many  extra- 
ordtnary  examples  of  acutenes,  in  the   perception  of 


"'•^SM. 


Perception.  ,.j 

which  we  are  speaking.     Thus  the  celebrated  blind  and 
deaf  mute,  Laura  Bridgman.  distinguishes  her  friends  by 
the  touch  of  their  hands;   and   in  this   way  she   can 
etam  the  memory  of  a  hand  for  years.      She  has  also 
been  accustomed  to  conjecture  the  degree  of  a  visitor's 
intelhgence  by  the  muscular  tonicity  or  movement  of  his 
hand,  and  at  an  early  period  she  learnt  to  detect  the 
hand  of  an   idiot  by  its  peculiar  flabbiness.*      Duoald 
Stewart  cites  instances  of  .   ad  men  who  could  feel  their 
approach  to  a  solid  obstacle  by  the  pulse  of  the  air  on 
the  face. t      It  does  not,  indeed,  seem  necessary  to  be 
blind  in  order  to  acquire  the  perception.    Many  persons, 
whik  walkmg  m  the  dark,  have   been   prevented   from 
dashing  agamst  some  object  in  the  way  by  a  peculiar 
feeling  which  they  may  not  have  been  able  to  explain 
Yet  the  explanation  is  not  far  to  seek.      In  walkin^r  ,ve 
push  before  us  a  column   of  air,   as  a  vessel,   movin. 
through  the  water,  raises  a  wave  at  its  bow.     The  wave 
of  the  atmosphere,   which  we  bear  before  us,  rolls  on 
undisturbed  till  it  strikes  some  resisting  body,  when  it 
surges  back  upon  us  ;  and  with  the  attention  unusually 
strained  to  catch  the.  slightest  warning  of  an  obstacle  it 
IS  not  unintelligible  that  the  increased   beat  of  the  'air 
should  be  felt  upon  the  face.| 

These   perceptions  of  touch,   however,   must  not  be 


♦  il//;/r/ for  April,  1879,  P-  162. 

t  Works.  Vol.  iv.,  p.  304,  note  (Hamilton's  edition) 

%  Mr   Levy  claims  for  blind  men  a  peculiar  sensibility  in  the  face 

64-8.)     Though  Maudslcy  seems  to  recogn.se  the  claim  [Pl^ys>olL 
0  the  Mnuf,  pp.  213-4).  yet  such   recognition  is  premature  wh';;^ 
he  claim  has  not  been  subjected  to  the  test  of  scientific  experiment 
It  seems  not  improbable  that  the  Facial  Sense  may  resolve  itself 
mainly  into  the  perception  explained  in  the  text. 


I 


14a 


Psychology. 


If'' 
'i: 


n 


w    1 


supposed  to  be  mtuitions.     Like  all  o.her  perception, 
'Ley  are  products  of  association  and  compariso,  •  thev 
are  efforts  of  intelligence  .0  interpret  various  s"  s^t  o 
of  touch  by  connecting  them  with  the  various  modes  o 

n  ay  be  due  to  varying  weights,  to  hardness  and  softness 

nnothe       A  ,    '   '"     '  '°   "'"^   """'  ^'™"S'y  '"an 
nno  her.     All  perception  of  such  facts  is  the  result  of  an 

mtellectua     process,-of    association   and   comp  rison 

rh,s  may  be  made  evident  by  one  or  two  simple' exper! 

ments.      These  experiments  are  taken  from  a  class  of 

phenomena,  which  may  be  called  illusory  percept  ons 

and  which  are  of  great  psychological  value  L  the    W  t' 

ey  throw  on  the  processes  of  intelligence.    They  s  o°w 

sensaton,    it   may  at   any   time   be   suggested   bv  the 
sens  ,0  „„,„        ^^^^^^^^^^   no'^correspl  1 ! 

reahty  It  ,s  thus  seen  that  the  reality  is  not  revealed  bv 
a  direct  intuition  but  is  simply  suggested  as  the  result  of 
a  previous  association. 

toud"s""'l."r"'"T'  "'r'^^'"  "'^  -ggestiveness  o, 
touches.      It  IS  evident  that  a  convex  surface,  when 

drawn  across  the  hand,  tends  .0  press  more  strongly   „ 

e  middle  than  at  the  extremities,  while  the  opposite 
tie   case   with   concave   surfaces.       These   inequ.lit'es 
of  sura.ce,   therefore  come  ,0  be  associated    wi  h    1 " 
viarymg  deg  ees  of  pressure  which  they  produce.      Now 
1    a  pline  surface  is  drawn  over  the  hano  of  a  person' 
blindfolded.  It  will  appear  convex  or  concave,  accord  n" 
as  the  pressure  is  increased  or  diminished  tiwa  ds    ,  f 
centre,  the  differences  of  pressure  suggesting  irret.ib 
^e^co^n...y  or  concavity,  with  Which  they^e  usl%^ 


)'>:rccption. 


'43 


A„o,her  illusory  pcrccplion  iiluslratcs  ihe  suggostibiliiy 
of  ..-.ctual  sensa,i„ns.     Heavy  bodies,  like  the  com,  on 

"i  :;:;■:::' v"'""  "■""  '"^  ^"'-^  -■^  ">~ 

Ha  ,ness  m  a  body  comes  lo  be  associated  with  the 
f-l"  «  of  .ts  bcmg  cold.     It  is  evidently  a  result  of  ,1 
-socK.„„„,  ,hat.  if  t.o  bodies  of  «,ual  weight  but 

^n-er.h,chT:Ldirat::::i:^:ri:^ 

It  IS  told  of  Dr.  Pearson,  that,  when  he  first  received  on 

auced  by  Sir  H.  Davy  s  buttery,  he  exclaimed,  "  Bless 
me,  how  heavy  u  is  !  "  Many  persons,  influenced  by  the 
s.-.me  assocafon,  must  have  felt  a  disappoint  n^ 
appr^achmg  to  a  sort  of  insipidity,  in  hand.tng'  t'l,:  l^    r' 

coated   »,th  a  successful  ir..itation   of  metallic   lustre 
st^gests  a_heaviness.  which  we  are  amusingly  disa.^rd 

(B)     In   the  perception  of  distinct  points,  touch   is 
u-ally  combined  with  muscular  sense  by  pass"  g  th 
fmger.t,ps  over  the  surface  examined  ;  and  thi  si"  w  . 
commonly  ,s  understood  by  "feeling  "  a  body      A,  „  " 

ts    nvo^s ?H    ■         '"°'""^"''  """  ■"'""'=  bodies  at 
east,  avoids  the  msensit.ve  s|>ots  of  the  skin,  and  at  the 

san,e  tm.e  var.es  the  impression  produced.     j„  ,his  way 

*  JVofessor  Bain  ascribes  this  illusion  to  ••»>,«    t 
of  cold  ■•  ,  ne  S,nsa  a„,,„  tj^l^^  ^'J^^^  '""' 
I  presume,   chat  cold  lowers  the  m  ,!., ,  ''   ^'"""'«»"s, 

.hererore  a  g.ea.er  ^>r^:': :^.^:i^^:,:::,^:r'""' 


144 


Psychology, 


if'  \i 


perceiving 


great   delicacy    may  often   be   acquired 
minute  differences  in  the  structure  of  suuuces  ana  me 
texture  of  stuffs.       It  is  by  this  delicate  perception  that 
the  clothier  detects  the  quality  of  a  cloih,  the  miller  and 
flour-nispector  determine  the  grades  of  flour.    Marvellous 
to  others,  and   perhaps   inexplicable   to  himself,  is   the 
accuracy  with  which  a  bank-teller  detects  the  presence  of 
a  counterfeit  among  a  thousand  notes  that  are  passing, 
rapidly  through  his  fingers.     An  astonishing  illustration 
of  the  mcreased  sensibility  which  may  be  given  to  touch 
by  the  concentration  of  intelligent  attention  upon  its  im- 
pressions,  seems  to   be  furnished  by  so-called  thought- 
readmg.      The  most  distinguished  of  recent  performers 
in  this  art,  assures  us  that  he  pretends  to  no  immediate 
clairvoyance  of  another  person's  thoughts,  but  that  in  his 
case  thought-reading  is  simply  "an  exalted  perception  of 
touch."  *  ^        f 

But  here  again  it  is  among  the  blind  that  we  look  for 
the  most  extraordinary  instances  of  acute  perception  It 
IS  asked  in  an  old  play  :— 

•'  Whose  hand  so  subtle  he  can  colours  name, 
If  he  do  wink  and  touch  'em  ?  "  f 

Nevertheless  some  of  the  blind  are  said  to  be  capable  of 
distinguishing  colours  by  touch.  This  would  mean  that 
surfaces,  which  to  sight  produce  sensations  of  different 
colours,  reveal  to  touch  also  a  perceptible  difference  • 
and  this  IS  a  priori  not  inconceivable ;  for  the  peculiar 
structure  of  a  surface,  which  makes  it  reflect  only  certain 
rays  of  light,  and  absorb  all  the  rest,  may,  in  some  cases 

by'stua'rt  c"r"T"f  T'"  "''  ^   ^/-«."/^^W..V  Experiences, 
.La  .  ^"'^^^^'•'*"^'  •"  'he  Nineteenth  Century  for  December 

I&86,  especially  pp.  878,  8S4.  "^^ecemDer, 

t  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Knight  of  Malta,  Act  i.,  Scene  i. 


Perception.  ,., 

at  least,  be  perceptible  to  a  delicate  touch.  Still  the 
possession  of  this  perception  has  been  denied  by  some 
who  claim  large  opportunities  of  observation  • 

Nevertheless  to„ch  does  at  times  acquire  powers  that 
are  qu„e  as  wonderful.     One  of  the  most  common  and 
useful   appl,cat,ons   of  an    educated   touch  among  the 
bhnd  at  the  present  day  is  the  reading  of  a  raised  type. 
Uura  Bridgman,  we  are  told,  "estimates  the  age  of  her 
visitors  by  feeling  the  wrinkles  about  their  eyes,'and  tells 
he  rame  of  mind  o.  her  friends  by  touching  their  facts 
nearly  as  accurately  as  a  seeing  person  could  do."  f     In 
nict  when  combined  with  muscular  sensibility  and  aided 
by  hearing,  touch  can  compensate  for  the  loss  of  sight  to 
a    degree    which    would    be    incredible,   were    it    not 
authenticated  by  daily  observations  and  unexceptionable 
evidence.      In  the  annals  of  the  blind,  therefore,  we 
have  numerous  examples  of  men  and  women  who,  in 
spite  of  their  defect,  have  pursued  with  success,  not  only 
various  branches  of  science,  but  also  various  industrial 
occunations,    which  must   have   involved   a    wonderful 
delicacy  of  touch.  I 

But  for  all  men  the  most  common  and  most  important 
perceptions  of  this  sense  are  those  which  refer  to  the 
separateness  of  different  points,  and  which  involve  there- 
fore the  three  dimensions  of  space,-linear,  plane,  and 
cubical  extension.  All  those  perceptions,  which  elate 
to  the  magnitude,  figure,  distance,  and  situation  of  bodies 


n  6n  ^  .^'T  '  ^'^'  '"^  ^"'"'"''^«  of  Laura  Bruigman, 
p.  60  ;  Quarterly  J^evtew  for  October,  1865.  On  the  other  sicfe,  se; 
Carpenter's  IL.nan  Pkysiology,  §  738;  and  Todd  and  Bowman'I 
Physiology,  p.  376  (Anier.  ed.).  -^i^wman  s 

t  Mind  for  April,  1879,  p.  162. 

:  Interesting  information  on  these  points  will  be  found  in  Lew's 
Bhndms,  and  the  Blind,  especially  pp.  336-372,  ^ 


146 


Psychohi^. 


Ill 


attributes  simtilv 


come  under  this  head;   for  all  the 
mean  the  di,„a„ce  of  different  poincs  ,rom  one  another 
n  d.fferen,  d.reCons.    Greater  or  less  magnitude  im^  I 
te  greater  or  less  distanees  between  the  extreme  p 

a    wSh   7;  '^  '""''^""  ^^P'^^^'°"  f-  "^^  distance 
at  wh,ch  the  different  pouns  in  the  outline  or  surface  of 
a  body  stand  apart.     In  these  perceptions  it  must  not  l^e 
supposed  that  touch  reveals  absolute  dimensions.     Th 
-pposmon   ,t   is   necessary   to   guard   against;    for  in 
ordmary  thought,  and  even  among  older  psychologists  it 
a  com,non  representation  that  tangible,  as  distinguish;d 
from    v,s,ble    dm.ensions  are   the  real    dimensFon,   of 
bod,es,  and  that  therefore  the  sense  of  touch  corrects  by 

b)  sight,  rh.s  v,ew,  however,  was  exposed  long  ago  by 
Berkeley,  and  has  been  thoroughly  dispelled  by  L  mo  re 
accurate  examination  of  tactile  perceptions  in'.ugurated 

bove""  t:""'""?  °'  '"'^^   "'^'^'^  "-^  <^-"ibed 

sion  t        >"  "°T  '""""  """  '"^  P^^«P"°»  °f  dimen- 
s.on,  as  well  as  the  perception  of  different  degrees  of 

pressure,  ,s  due  to  association  and  comparison.  Indeed 
the  philosopher,  who  was  probably  in  modern  times  the 
greatest  representative  of  the  doctrine  which  holds  tint 
we  have  an  mtuitive  perception  of  external  reality  is 
quite  as  explicit  as  any  other  in  denying  any  perception 
of  extension  m  its  real  or  absolute  magnitude  t 

To  tllustrate  this  let  us  take  the  perception  of  magni- 
tude Is  there  any  absolute  magnitude  revealed  to  touch  ? 
On  the  contrary,  the  tangible  magnitude  of  a  tody 
depends  on  the  part  of  the  organism  with  which  it  i^in 
contact.      I.  has  been  already  observed  that   at  slme 

•  Book  i..  Part  i.,  Chapter  ii.,  §  4. 

t  Si,  W.  Hamilton  i„  his  edidon  of  R«d>,  Work,,  pp.  88,-2. 


Perception. 


'47 

parts  of  the  skin  the  points  of  a  pdr  of  compasses  are  felt 
to  be  d,s.,nct  only  when  they  are  placed  between  two  and 

tTzir.::T'  "'"^  '"r  ^^"  "^  -^^^"-^--'^  t 

he     p  of  the  forennger  when  separated  only  by  one 

twelfth  of  an  ,nch,  and  even  at  the  hnlf  „f  .hat  dUt.nce 

by  the  t,p  of  the  tongue.    As  a  result  of  .his,   wTfixed 

pomts  appear  to  be  more  distant  when  felt  by  a  sensitive 

ban  when    elt  by  an  obtuse  part  of  the  skin.     I     he 

wo  pomts,  therefore,  are  drawn  from  the  soft  par,  of  the 

arm  over  the  palm  ,o  the  finger-tips,  they  a,„  ea     ,n 

separate;  winle  they  seen,  to  4>roU  if  dra^  "t  : 

opposite  d,rect.on.     Consequently,  a  body  impres  es  u! 

a'u.rrt'oTr""''^"""''^  -'^^  --"'d  i;tiz 

th,s  .s  the  fact,  that  a  tooth,  when  touched  by  the 
tongue,  appears  larger  than  when  touched  by  the  fLer 
We  should  commonly  express  this  by  saying  that  fhe 
tooth  appears  larger  than  i.  really  is  •  for' ouMde,s  of 
real  magn.tude  are  connected  mainly  wi.h  the  specia 
organ    of    touch,    the    finger-tips.      But    the   unald  d 
sens.  ,hty  g,ves  us  no  absolute  standard  of  dimens    n  ' 
and  that  ,s  the  reason  why  we  are  obliged  to  adoct' 
independent  instruments  of  measurement  ^ 

Take,  again,  the  perception  of  the  situation  of  bodies 
Th-  Percepfon  depends  on  the  relative  situations  of  he 
d-fferent  parts  of  the  skin  that  are  touched.     Now  the 
nau.al    situations    of   these    different    parts    m.;'   be 
ar       .ally  altered;    and   an  illusory  perception  is  the 
result,  for  suggest.on  follows  the  normal  situation  of  the 
pomts  o    contact.     Thus,  if  a  pellet  is  placed  between 
the  two  forefingers  crossed,  we  seem  to  perceive,  no,  one 
but  two  bodies.     The  reason  is,  that  ,he  sid  s  o    the 
fingers   touched   cannot,   in  their  natural   position    be 
touched  by  a  s.ngle  body  at  the  same  time  •  and  "L. 


iirf 


148 

fore  the  simuleaneot 


Psychology. 


j 
I 
i 


.   .  *""'=''    of   t><«li   by  the  nellel 

-gges,.,  ,rres..,bly  the  idea  of  t,vo  separate  hodis 

fac  h'v  i'n  .'hif"^  '"  "'""''  "  """^"'"^  =>--->"  of 

us.,ally  ,s,     uh  the  muscular  sense.     When  any  object 

uch  as  a  sfck,  is  held  by  one  end  in  the  hand   wh  le 

he  other  end  is  brought  against  any  resisting  boj;      e 

hand    feels    a   corresponding   tactile   impression       By 

association  w.th  its  cause  in  the  resisting  body  J;  learn 

long  the  object  in  the  hand  to  the  point  where  The 
resistance  ts  made.     The  sense  of  touch  is  thus   augh 

conmc!  >v„h  „s  organ ;  it  learns  .0  perceive  the  exact 
position  which  such  bodies  occupy  i„  space,  as  wel  a 

ness  their  hardness  and  softness,  and  their  weight.     We 
speak,  ,„  fact,  of  >AV  or  touching  a  distant  body  bv 

"";?K      t^  "  °""^^  '"^'"™-«  h'-'J  in  the  hand 
and  te  skill  of  the  painter  in  handling  his  brush  is  ot„' 
described  as  h.s  touch.     The  value  of  this  sort  of  touch 

ancient   Greeks   ,n    the    myth    of  the   blind   Teiresi-s 

Tbrrdirtrh^"""  '"'  ^'"  °'^^'^'^'  ^^  "'"^'"'-- 
able  to  direct  his  movements  as  accurately  as  if  he  had 

been   restored   to   sight.      But    for    all   men   the   vast 

exension    of  tactile  and   muscular   perception  by    h 

means  will  be  realised,  when  i,  is  remembered  that  a 

di:s  ori^''"'  T""  "^.  °"^ '°  '"^ "-  "f  "ot 

aepends   on   the   readiness  with  which   the   sensihilifv 
transfers  itself  to  the  point  or  edge  of  the  tool  use  . 
.s  by  this  transference  of  sensibility  that  man  acquires  all 
his  marvellous  accuracy  in   directing   pen  and  nend 
chtsel  and  knife,  hatchet  and  swordfJn  sh^rj  X 


i  I 

P'rception.  ,49 

v.^rious  instruments  by  which  he  has  n.ade  natural  forces 
subserv,en.  to  ,he  necessities  and  enjoyn.ents        1^^ 

h.s  eeJ'in""'""";  °'"^  ^'^"^  '"'^'^  V«^^JX 
has  been  m,en,ously  suggested  thrt  we  may  explain  the 
f^hion  of  carryng  cnnes,  of  wearing  large  head'd 'es  e, 
and  other  ornamental  additions  to  the  person  as  if  hv 
Tn  r-T;";""^^  "-  /«"  '0  expanl,  in  it's  'rj  .'Z 
eauailv   i„  ^"""^ction    „,ay   be   mentioned   an 

equally   ingenious   explanation    of  the   various   actions 
wh,ch  have  been  adopted  as  expressions  of  respe       , 
hum.l,r..,on  m  presence  of  a  superior.-bowing  kneel    " 
uncovenng  the  head  or  the  feet,-as  all  inv;^    he 
same  idea,  that  of  a  diminution  of  the  person  t 

sunerioHtv  o        T''"™''  '"   "^"^^  "'^   '"'<'"-'"'" 
super,or„y  of  touch  as  compared  with  taste  or  smell 

sense    admit    of    being    more    clearly    identified    and 
dis  inguis  e    both  in  presemation  and'represent:tio„:"' 
I.    that   the    actual  sensations  can    be    more  eisil. 
compared,  must  be  evident  from  the  fact  thatley  m  y' 
be  discriminated,    not   only   when   occurring   in  rapM 
succession,  but  even  when  they  are  simultaneous       f  is 
this  discrimination  of  simultaneous  touches,  that  ;nab  J 
I  '°  P^—  "-""'■'  points,    and  thus  to  attlf a| 
.  ose  perceptions  which  imply  extension  in  its  differen 
dimensions.  uuicrenc 

2.  It  is  equally  evident  that  tactile  sensations  are  more 
distincly  repr.e„taUe.  A  touch  can  be  clearly  revTd 
m  memory,  and  even  referred  in  memory  to  the  precise 

*  Lotze,  Mikrokosmus,  Vol.  i.,  pp.  196-7 
+  D.  Stewart's  PJniosop/,y  of  the  Auive  and  Moral  Powers  Vol 
1.,  p.  248,  note  (Hamilton's  edition)  '     ^ 


ir  f; 


II; 


ISO 


Psychology, 


ii 

if! 


the 


periphery  where  it  was  originally  felt.      It 
must  be  this  circumstance  mainly  that  has  led  to  the 
general  use  of  skin-inflictions  in  the  discipline  of  ser.tient 
hemgs ;  font  ,s  obviously  of  prime  importance  in  suci. 
d.^cplme,  that  the  pains,  intended  to  deter  from  .ny  act, 
should  be  at  once  such  as  are  easily  remen.bered,  nnd 
such  as  are  easily  associated  with  the  act,  from  which 
they  are  to  deter.      A  remarkable  proof  of  the  distinct 
hold    winch    touches    may    retain   on    the    memory    is 
furnished  by  not  a  few  of  the  blind,  after  an  interval  of 
many  years,  recognising  an  old  acquaintance  immediately 
by  the  grasp  of  his  hand.     Gough,  the  blind  botanist, 
had  in  his  old  age  a  rare  plant  put  into  his  hands.     After 
a  brief  examination  he  gave  it  its  name,  observing  at  the 
s;.ne  time  that  he  had  met  with  only  one  specimen  of 
the  plant  before,  and  that  was  fiftv  years  a-o  * 

This  leads  to  the  additional  observation,  that  touches 
are  as  easily  associableas  they  are  comparable,-that  they 

They  fill,  therefore,  a  much  larger  place,  than  either 
tastes  or  odours,  in  the  memory  and  imagination  of  men. 
It  IS  thus  that  "the  touch  of  a  vanished  hand"  is  in 
Itself  so  clearly  revivable,  and,  even  as  a  mere  revival,  is 
endowed  with  such  power  to  recall  the  thoughts  and 
emotions,  with  which  it  has  been  associated. 

It  might  be  expected,  since  touches  can  so  readily 
form  a  viv  !  imagery,  that  they  would  enter  extensively 
into  the  material  of  poetry ;  and  yet  the  poetic  value 
assigned  to  them  is  usually  insignificant.  This  may  be 
pa  tly  due  to  the  slight  emotional  value  of  touches-Ian 
^sthetic  defect,  of  which  we  shall  have  occasion  to  speak 
^gam.     But  another  explanation  is  to  be  found  in  the 

♦  TA,  l,,st  Senses,  by  Dr.  Kilto,  p.  347  (Amer.  ed.). 


I 


Perception.  „ 

.-.il  the  ideas  .ha  Unvd  e  e  "nl  ^"T  ■''"■  f""'°"- 

doubtedly  derived  i!! T  ^^'"'    "'°"S''   """ 

muscular  sen  b^V  "b^^.  "T""  '"'"'  ''""'  -" 
development:^  t  by  reason  ^  T  "'""??'  ™"'^' 
have  been  unaided  hy  s'ght  we  ca„  sTud""  '""'"'"'• 
em.y    .he    separaie^ornHbu  ion   tr~  To"""' 

:^:ci:nrLx:-SF 

seeing,  .hey  are  a..ached  To  tg^^^'.ZTV'' 
a  man  who  was  born  blind  wr^f  s  -!"  r  .T       . 
and  indescribable  deliffhi  in  „      ■'       -^  '"''«»  strange 

over   Highly.polishe'd"tfa'cTe;"f,,i7y  1r"tr'' 
curved  or  undulatin-      Hard   LJu        r  ^^  ^'^ 

Of  sandpaper  or  unpolirT.       r';::.;;:!^ 
agreeabe  to  the  tourh       a»     i      /       extremely  dis- 

.luminous,    or  ^X' sJS^",^)^^  ^^V- 
feelmgs  of  disgus.,  kindred,  perhaps  ,oh„J  •        "^ 

by  the  seeing,  when  .he  evThu!  ^''Penenced 

coloured   obf^c.s;    whUeTphtL  'Zr  ^^ IT 

;f  f  «^;^^  ««^  ^.^.>e.....«/.  ,/  Me  ^/.W,  by  W  Artir--       • 
"•  V,  nail.  f  "/   »'.  /vriniauii  ana 


15- 


Psychology, 


%\ 


111 

i 


"  Polished  surfaces,  meandering  streams,  and  gentlf 
declivities,  were  the  figures  by  which  he  expressed  his 
ideas  of  beauty;  rugged  rocks,  irregular  points,  and 
boisterous  elements,  furnished  him  with  expressions  of 
terror  and  disgust."* 

§  4  — Perceptions  of  Hearing. 

These  perceptions  may  be  conveniently  grouped  in 
two  classes;  for  some  of  them  are  founded  on  the 
general  sensibility  of  the  ear  to  all  sorts  of  sound,  others 
on  its  special  sensibility  to  tones.  The  former  may  be 
described  as  perceptions  of  space,  the  latter  as  percep- 
tions of  relative  pitch  and  quality. 

(A.)  With  regard  to  the  auditory  perceptions  of  space, 
it  seems   scarcely  necessary  to  say,  that  they  are  not 
immediate  intuitions,  through  tne  ear,  of  spatial  relations. 
Sound  in  itself  implies  no  idea  of  space,  of  here  and 
there,  of  long  and  short,  of  far  and  near.     Sounds  are 
sensations,  differing  in  intensity,  pitch,  and  quality,  but 
indicating  no  relation   whatever   to  the   dimensions  of 
space.     These  dimensions,  in  short,  however  they  ma> 
be  known,  cannot  be  heard,  any  more  than  they  can  be 
tasted  or  smelled.     How,  then,  do  we  learn  to  perceive 
si)ace  by  sound?     We  acquire   this  perception   in  the 
same  way  as  we  acquire  any  other,  by  association  and 
com|)arison. 

This  perception,  as  already  remarked,  is  based  on  the 
sensibility  of  the  ear  to  sound  in  general.  Now,  the  pro. 
pi  ri)  which  all  sounds  possess  in  common  is  intensity, 
and  different  sounds  can  be  compared— discriminated— 
in  rcSDCCt  of  their  different  intensities.      Moreover,  the 


The  Lost  Senses,  by  Dr.  Kitto,  pp.  342-3  (Ainer.  ed.). 


IM 


Il 

Perception,  ,- 

dSn!  ■"l:"^"'^^.''-"™*  -'-iated  in  experience  with 
0  a   o  '  d  r"'  '"  '".'"•      Accordingly,  .he  intensity 

sign  of  the  spatial  relation  with  which  it  has  be.n 
assocated.  There  are  two  such  relations  which  are  thus 
made  known-distance  and  direction. 

I-  The   association,  which    forms   the  oerceMion   of 
"^-x/,,,.,  has  been  already  mentioned.      It  fs  fo  Cd  .^ 
'■:e  phys,cal  law,  that  the  sound-waves  in  the  aZspher 
dinuntsh   ,„  breadth,  and  ther.„re  i,npi„,e  with 

.deji  o  b,..,t:-:,^.-e;;^^^^^^^ 

encgh  to  make  the  suggestion  of  the  fact  signified  b„ 
the  mtensuy  of  a  sound  almost  as  instantaneous  as  an 
mmedtate  tntuition.  ,„  .hose  instances  in  wh'h  .^e 
annltar  assocation  is  interrupted,  there  is  usuarsome 

fleceived.      In    the  case   of  thunder  and   artillery    for 
example,  we   have  generally  learn.,  from  .he  famil  a 
cnaracter  of  the  sounds,  that  ,l,e,e  is  „„.  neces  a  ilvan 

fee,  .he  art  of  the  ventriloquist,  apart  from  his  histrio,.  c 
power  and  h,s  skill  in  mimicking  vanous  voices     i^s 
P  oducmg  an  illusory  perception  of  hearing  by  iu  iutlr 
of  the  s,gns  w,th  which  we  have  been  accustom  " 
associate  different  distances.  accustomed  to 

II.  The  perception  of  thn  aV....,/,-.,,  „<■, -^      .    , 

-  -'-•  "i-^n  Oi  a  auuna,  that  ii, 


154 


Psychology. 


'I 


W 


I 


% 


|:!i 


of  the  situation  of  a  sonorous  body  in  reference  to  our 
own  position  in  space,  is  also  due  to  the  discrimination 
of  different  intensities  of  sounds;  but  it  implies  that  we 
discriminate  the  intensities  of  the  sensations  in  the  two 
ears.  The  ear,  which  is  nearest  to  a  sonorous  body  will 
receive  its  sound  with  greater  force;  and  from  this  fact 
we  learn  to  recognise  the  direction  in  which  the  sound 
comes. 

Here,  again,  in  mature  intelligence  the  process  becomes 
so  rapid  from  long  association,  that  we  fail  to  analyse  it 
in  ordinary  perceptions.     But  the  process  may  yet  be 
detected  in  two  circumstances,     (i.)  When  we  are  un- 
certain about  the  direction  of  a  sound,  as  we  must  be  if 
:-s  cause  is  right  above  or  beneath,  right  in  front  or 
behind,  we  keep  tentatively  altering  the  position  of  the 
nead,  till  we  satisfy  ourselves  by  catching  the  sound  more 
stron, >ly  on  one  ear.     (2.)  It  is  the  experience  of  persons 
who  have  lost  the  sensibility  of  one  ear,  that  they  lose 
also,  to  a  large  extent,  the  power  of  perceiving  the  direc 
tion  of  sounds. 

Still  there  is  ground  for  believing  that  this  perception 
has  been  exaggerated,  so  far  as  it  is  supposed  to  be  in- 
dependent on  -ny  extraneous  knowledge  of  the  situation 
of  audibly  bodies.  When,  for  example,  you  are  in  a 
company  of  several  persons,  and  are  able  to  turn  without 
hesitation  to  each  whenever  his  voice  is  heard,  your  per- 
ception of  the  direction  of  the  voice  is,  in  all  probability, 
to  be  iscribed  mainly  to  your  previous  acquaintance  with 
the  p-'^uhar  tones  of  the  various  persons  in  the  company, 
and  with  the  various  positions  which  they  respectively 
occupy. 

Though  it  is  common  to  consider  geometrical  relations 
alone,  like  distance  and  direction,  among  these  percep- 
tions of  hearing,  yet  sometimes  physical  properties  also 


W\ 


■I 

A  f 


PtrupHoH.  ,55 

"eanT° tv'  •'"!!  ''"'"''  *"''  "»"  ^^^'^^  ^y  >'' 
rhoHi         V  K -'^^  '"'''  '■"^  ^^^"P'^'  ""h  'he  weight 
o  bod,es  wh,ch  .s  apt  to  show  a  certain  correspondence 
with  the  intensity  of  the  sounds  they  produce.     We  thus 
d.st,ngu,sh  easily  the  tread  of  an  adult  from  th^^lgh 
00  step  of  a  child,  we  detect  at  once  the  heavy  foot  of 
man    bearing  a  burden,  and  we  can   tell   whether  the 
vehicle  which  we  hear  passing  down  the  streetTa  loaded 
waggon  or  an  empty  cart.     Perceptions  of  this  sort  are, 

a  d  thS  '  '  '""'""'  '"^  ^""^  ^"--g  "-  Wind 

and  their  appreciation   of  minute    differences    in   »he 

mtensity  and  pitch  of  sounds  forms  one  of  the  chkf 

guides  in  threading  their  way  through  crowded  thorough 

(B)  The  value  of  the  musica/  peraptions  of  the  ear  is 
evmced  ,n  the  fact,  that  they  form  the  basis  at  once  of 
articulate  speech  and  of  the  fine  art  of  music 

I.     Artkulau  spe^A  depends  on   the  power  of  dis- 
criminating the  musical  properties  of  sound.     This  .^ 
evident  from  an  examination  of  the  vocal  organ  of  man 
as  wel  as  of  the  elementary  sounds,  whose  combinaS 
form  his  spoken  language. 

sense'^a',^[f'",°"^'  "'""""  '°''^* ''• '"  "^«  ^'"^'^^^ 
sense,   a   musical    instrument   of  the   reed  sort.     The 

s  ructures,  which  play  the  part  of  reeds,  are  the  via 
cords,-,wo  elastic  ligaments,  which  are  slre.ched  across 
he  upper  part  of  the  larynx,  and  are  thrown  into  vib" 
tion    by  the  expired   breath.     I„    fact,    i„  singin.   the 
organ  of  the  voice  is  used  for  strictly  musical  purpos'es 

2.  Ihe   articulate   sounds,    produced    by  this   organ 
have  Ir  .m  ancient  times  been  divided  into  two  classes  J 
consonants  and  vowels.  ' 

W^  The    consonants-/A^«,    .o«w««„to-are   not 
■n-.ee.,  independent  sounds ;  they  can  be.  sounded  only 


156 


Psychology, 


if 

% 

\: 

■li 

\  '■ 

't  1 

•        i 

I  \ 

llf 

1 

1; 

ih 


II  I: 


;;f! 


lh\ 


r. 


along  with  the  vowels.     They  are  simply  checks  on  the 
vowel   sounds,   produced   by  obstruction  of  the  breath 
nficr  It  has  issued  from  the  larynx  ;  and  the  difTerence  of 
the  consonants  depends  on  the  point  where  the  obstruc 
tu>n  IS  fonned.     Is  the  breath  checked  just  as  it  leaves 
the  larynx  by  a  contraction  at  the  top  of  the  throat  ?  we 
have  a  guttural.      Is   it  allowed   to  pass   further,  and 
arrested  only   by  a  pressure  of  the  tongue  against  the 
teeth  ?  a  dental  is  the  result.     Is  it  not  slopped  till  we 
c-  <>se  the  l.ps  upon  it?  then  they  produce  a  labial.     Now. 
although  to  the  philologist  tracing  the  modifications  of  a 
word     or   to   the    elocutionist    anxious    about   distinct 
articulation,   the  consonants   form  the  most  important 
constituents  of  speech,    yet    phonetically  they  are   not 
essential.     A  word  may  be  formed  without  a  consonant, 
out  not  without  a  vowel. 

(fi)     The    yoweh~/i/erae    voca/es-are    independent 
sounds,  formed  by  the  current  of  breath  being  modified 
by  the  configuration  of  the  mouth.     A  change  in  the 
configuration  of  the  mouth  forms  it  into  a  practically  new 
instrument  by  giving  it  a  different  resonance  ;  that  is  to 
say,  the  mouth  becomes  thus  tuned  to  a  different  key 
and  adapted  to  resound  tones  that  are  in  harmony  with 
It.     1  he  result  is  that  with  each  new  configuration  of  the 
mouth  different  overtones  are  brought  into  prominence  • 
and  consequently  the  vowels  are  distinguished  from  one 
another  by  the  quality  of  their  tone.     It  is  not  necessary 
here  to  enter  into  details  on  this  subject ;  these  will  be 
found  in  Helmholtz's  great  work,  which  has  been  already 
mentioned.*  ^ 

Of  course  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  sounds 
^^  ^^^  ^"'^^  ^'^  "merely  the  raw  formless  materials  of 

•  LiAri  von  den  Tonempfindungen,  pp.  163.  i8o. 


Perception,  ,  e- 

speech.      That  there  is  a  strong  animal  instinct  to  use 
vo,  al  sounds  for  the  expression  of  mind  is  evinced  in  the 
mari.culate  cries  of  beasts  and  the  musical  notes  of  birds 
A  very  sinking  manifestation  of  this  instim.t  is  the  fari 
that  Laura  B.idgman,  who  was  bhnd  and  deaf  almost 
from   her  b.rih,   produces  vocal  sounds  which  she  can 
ee    merely  as  muscular  sensations  in  the  larynx,  and 
that  she  associates  these  with  different  objects,  anin.ate 
and  man.mate,  in  the  same  way  as  we  associate  words 
with  such  objects  as  their  nauies  or  signs  *     The  raw 
matenals-the  mere  sounds-of  articulate  s,)ccch  can 
be  reproduced  even  by  many  of  the  lower  a.mnals,  like 
the  parrot,  which  have  a  powerful  inslina  of  mimicry  in 
tins  direction.      }3ut  the  esscn^al  form  of  language-the 
syntax  or  intelligent  arrangement  of  articulate  sounds- 
is  never  acquired  by  any  of  the  lower  animals.      Syntax 
implies  the  connection  of  different  thoughts  as  factors  of 
a  larger  thought-the  connection  of  different  parts  of 
speech  as  forming  by  their  relation  one  organic  whole 
It  IS  simply,  therefore,  a   modification  of  that  general 
action  of  intelligence  which  consists  in  association  and 
comparison  ;  but  as  quite  distinct  from  any  perception 
of  hearmg,  ,t  does  not  require  further  considera.ion  here 
i  he    perception    of  articulate   sounds,   though   a   more 
humble,  IS  still  an  essential  part  of  the  faculty  of  speech  • 
and,  humble  though  it  be  in  comparison  with  the  other' 
It  involves  a  somewhat  elaborate  intellectual  effort     The 
labour,   accumulated  in  the  effort,  is  disguised  by  the 
easy    rapidity   with    which    it    is    performed    after   Ion. 
practice;  but  it  is  partially  revealed  to  any  one  who  sets 
about  educating  his  ear  to  follow  a  foreign  speech.    The 

•  Mrs.  Lamson's  Life  and  Education  of  Laura  Bridgman,  pp. 
xvu-xvji.,  61-2,  84.  *        '  *^' 


M 


•58 


Psychology. 


'!(■ 


firs  .mpression  of  a  foreign  tongue  is  an  unin.elligible 
jabber ;  and  u  ,s  a  significant  philological  fact,  that  in 
many  languages  the  words  used  commonly  to  denote  " 
foragner,  l.ke  the  Greek  barhro,  and  the  Teutonic 
«":h.i>  seem  to  have  expressed  originally  the  idea  of 
bnhblmg  or  talking  inarticulately. «  '  ' 

In  fact,  not  a  few  phenomena  in  language  are  to  be 

Totr:?    ';  ",^  ''"™"^  °f  -"=^-'    '-'"«■     th 
sound  of  unfamihar  words.     Occasionally,  for  example 

when  two  word,  are  commonly  used  toge  her  the  fin  l' 
consonant  of  the  one  coalesces  with  the  beginn  „  of  the 
other,  or  the  mmnl  consonant  of  the  latter  fs  attracted  o 
the  termtnation  of  the  preceding.  Of  the  form  ^ 
phenomenon  „.  have  examples  in  «  nav,  io.  an  Ta 
mc'-'anu  or  an  .kena,,. :  of  the  other,  examples  occ'u^ 

n  an  adder  for  a  nadder,   un  orange  for  un  naran.^e 

cr  m s't  Tr"  T  '"'  ^""^  "''""«•      Old  manu- 
scripts, at  a  tune  when  spelling  was  loss  an  object  of  care 

and  prmtmg  had  not  made  orthograi,hy  familiar  show 
numerous  examples  of  such  confusion.    Another  comt: 
confuston  occurs  when  a  word  imported  from  a  fore  o^ 
anguage  resembles  the  sound  of  a  word  in  the  langu  |e 
mto  which  .t  .s  mtroduced.      The  familiar  word  is  thfn 
made  to  do  duty  for  the  unfamiliar,  even  though  the  two 
may  have  no  connection  in  etymology  or  meaning.      Of 
h,s  there  .s  a  well  known  example  in  the  vulgar  corrup 
..on   of  asfarag„s  into   sfa,r.,.,,rass;  and    numerous 
addmona    .llustrations  may  be  found  in  works  on  Z 
science  of  language. 

II.  The  fine  art  of /;;«,/.  is  of  course  built  up  on  the 
musical  sensibility  of  the  ear.      It  in^plies  a  power  J 


•  See  Renan,  De  rorigint  du  hnga^e,  pp.  lyy.iSg. 


'■'m 


Perception.  j  - 

••  The    perception  of  guality  forms  a  considenl.le 
emen,  of  ..usi  al  gra.incntion;  and  this  propen    1  ' 
have  seen  depends  on  the  overtones  by  whkhIC  ! 
-co,npan,ed.     Simple  tones,  like  those  of  a   t  J„'  foH 

being  reSl"^'"-^"""  """-^'«^<>  >>    -~^^ 

which   the  Lver  overton  f '     I  7  '"f'  ''"'"'  '" 
ra^oi.  •  "venones,  up  to  about  the  s  xth    -ir^ 

mos   prominent,  such  as  the  tones  of  a  piano  or  the  ^en 
PVcs  of  an   orRan.  produce  a  richer,  grander   clan! 
wh,  e  those,  in  which  the  higher  overtones  prevail     uch 
as    he   tones  of  n,ost   reed-instrunrents,  are   h    'sh   in 

.h.s  ts  a  subject  which  will  be  .^mediately  disc's^d 

2.  Ihe  perception  of  relative ///.^i  may  apply  either  to 
consecutu-e  or  to  simultaneous  tones 

tone  nlust'bV^'h"'  """''"''"'  """'  '""  ^"^"^^ing 
lone  must  be  such  as  to  follow  without  violent  shock 

upor,  the  preceding.    This  agreeable  relation  of  su  c    si  ' 

on  s  .„,.My.      To  understand    the   nature   of     " 

rciafon,  „  must  be  borne  in  mind  that,  in  a  succession 

of  tones,  each  preceding  tone  is  apt  to  linger,  i    no     " 

struck ,  and  therefore  a  .narked  discord  between  the  twn 
ones  would  be  disagreeable.    This  would  be  the  case    t 
enst  w,th  the  emphatic  notes  of  a  melody;  and  it  seen 
hat.  m  those  a,rs  which  have  been  the  d  Ji  ht  of  a  peon  « 
for  generations,  the  emphatic  notes  ar.  r.!!,.^  k!  ^1T 


r 


II     i 


[i!' 


i6o 


Psychology. 


ntid  familiar  concords.  The  nature,  therefore,  of  a 
"u-lodi„us  succession  of  tones,  like  that  of  the  quality  oi 
single  tones,  seems  to  point  to  the  same  source  of  auditory 
gratifu-ation,  from  which  harmony  derives  its  power. 

{b)  We   are   thus    brought    to    the    consideration    of 
harmony,  that  is,    the   musical  or  agreeable  rdation   of 
simultaneous    tones.       The    complete    explanation    oi 
harmony  mvoln-s  three  problems,  only  one  of  which  . 
strictly  psychological. 

(«)  From  physics  harmony  demands  an  account  of  its 
physical  cause.      This  cause  must   be  some  peculiarity 
in  the  combination  of  the  atmospheric   vibrniions   pro- 
ducmg  the  various  tones  that  form  a  harmony.      it  is 
evident  that  difTerent  sound-waves,  having  a  certain  ratio, 
Will  coincide  at  regular  intervals,  while  other  combinations 
admit  of  no  such  coincidence.     It  is  also  evident  thu 
coincidences  of  this  kind  can  be  represented  1  y  the  ratio 
between  the  numbers  of  the  vibrations  that  produce  the 
several  tones  of  a  harmony.     A  few  of  the  more  simple 
ratios  are  very  obvious,  and  have  long  been  familiar  in 
muiic.     Thus,  when  the  vibrations  of  two  tones  stand  in 
the  ratio  of  i  :  2,  that  is,  when  two  tones  at  an  interval 
of  an  octave  are  combined,  each  beat  of  the  air  producing 
the   lower  tone   will  coincide   with    every    second   bea^ 
producing  the  higher.      A  similar  coincidence  will  also 
obviously  result  from  such  simple  ratios  as   1  :  3,  2  :  3, 
I  :  4,  etc.     But  it  is  unnecessary  here  to  go  into  details,' 
which  belong  to  acoustics  and  the  theory  of  music. 

{i)  To  physiology  also  a  problem  is  olTcred  by 
harmony,-the  problem  of  explaining  the  peculiar 
organic  action  that  is  set  up  during  an  harmonious 
conbmation  of  tones.  Here  we  enter  on  a  more  obscure 
region,  and  must  grope  our  way  mainly  by  deduction 
from  our  general  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  nervous 


III  ,i  Iff 


Perception. 


I6i 


action.  It  is  commonly  held  that  the  efTcct  of  coincident 
atmospheric  vibrations  upon  the  auditory  nerve  is  to  pro- 
duce a  continuous  nerve-current,  while  a  discordant 
combination  excites  a  confused  set  of  intermittent  shocks 
The  pleasantness  of  the  one  effect,  and  the  unpk'nsantness 
of  the  other,  will  be  considered  in  the  next  l»art  of  this 
Book,  when  we  come  to  discuss  the  nature  of  pleasure 
and  pain. 

(7)  But   the   physical   and    physiological    asr.ects   of 
harmony  are  noticed  here  mainly  to  avoid  confoundin.. 
them  with  its  psyc/io/ogical  aspect.     To  the  psychologist 
harmony   is  ■  a    phenomenon    in    consciousness.      The 
consciousness   here   is    very   largely   emotional,    but   it 
contams   a    cognitional    factor  as    well.      This    factor 
appears,  of  course,  most  distinctly  where  it  is  most  fully 
developed,— in  the  mind  of  a  cultivated  musician.     To 
such  the  consciousness  of  harmony  is  a  percej)tion  of 
some  sort  of  coalescence  between  the  combining  tones, 
while  in  discord  there  is  a  consciousness  that  the  tones 
will  not  coalesce.     In  its  intellectual  aspect  discord  may 
therefore   be  compared   with  the  consciousness  arising 
from  the  presentation  or  representation   of  objects,  so 
numerous  and  so  dissimilar,  that  the  intellect  is  baffled 
m  the  effort  to  comprehend  them  in  one  cognitive  act ; 
and  in  its  emotional  aspect,  as  may  appear  more  clearl/ 
in  the  sequel,  discord   may  be  classed  with   the  more 
general  feelings  of  distraction  or  confusion. 

To  prevent  misunderstanding,  it  may  be  observed  in 
passing,  that  of  course  there  are  other  factors  in  music 
besides  the  perception  of  tone.  There  is,  for  example, 
the  cognition  of  time,  of  which  it  need  only  be  said  here 
that  the  sense  of  hearing  is  a   pretty  fair  measurer.* 


•  T. 


ime  in  music  is  esscntiaiiy  connected  with  metre  and  rhyllm 


1 62 


i 


5 


I     «    1 

III 


Ml 


Psychology. 


There  is  also  the  aesthetic  consciousness,  which  is  com- 
mon  to  music  with  the  other  fine  arts.  But  the  con- 
sciousness of  time  and  of  beauty  opens  up  questions 
which  can  be  discussed  only  at  a  later  stage. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  insist  on  the  intellectual 
rank  of  this  sense,  as  it  is  obvious  that  sounds  are  among 
the   most   readily   associated   and    the   most   distinctly 
compared  of  all  sensations,     (i.)  Their  associability,  that 
IS,  their  suggestiveness  and  suggestibility  are  strikingly 
illustrated  in  the  familiar  use  of  speech;  for  the  under- 
standing of  language  implies  that  sounds  have  the  power 
of  instantaneously  suggesting  thoughts,  as  speaking  im- 
plies that  thoughts  have  fhe  power  of  instantaneously 
suggesting  sounds,  as  well  as  the  muscular  adjustments 
requisite  for  producing  them.     (2.)  The  comparability  of 
sounds  is  also  remarkable.      We  have  already  seen  that, 
in  succession,  they  must  reach    the   number  of  about 
forty  in  a  second  before  they  become  fused  into  one 
tone  j  and  the  power  of  a  cultivated  ear  to  discriminate 
minute  differences  of  pitch  or  quality  is  often  marvellous. 
The  leader  of  a  large  orchestra  can  at  once  detect  a  false 
note,  and  turn  to  the  offending  instrument,  while  a  tuner 
must  recognise  any  variation,  even  to  a  small  fraction  of 
a  tone,  from  the  pitch  which  he  is  seeking  to  restore.* 
With  this  high  intellectual  quality  sounds  have  natur- 


in  versification,  and  the  dependence  of  these  on  hearing  is  evinced 
by  the  fact  that,  while  blind  men  have  produced  the  most  delicate 
charms  of  poetical  structure,  the  annals  of  the  deaf  contain  no  great 
poets.  See  Kitto's  The  Lost  Smses,  pp.  140-4,  where  the  author 
gives  an  interesting  account  of  his  own  experience  of  deafness. 

•  Observations  seem  to  show  that  a  practised  ear  can  detect  a 
difference  of  pitch,  when  it  depends  merely  on  a  fraction  of  a 
vibration.  Wundt's  Physiologische  Psychologies  vol.  i.,  p.  396 
(second  ed.). 


Perception, 


163 


ally  entered  very  extensively  into  the  materials  of  poetic 
art  Their  artistic  value,  however,  is  most  prominently 
exhibited  m  music ;  but  as  the  effect  of  music  is  chiefly. 
If  not  exclusively,  emotional,  this  subject  must  be  re- 
served  for  the  next  Part. 

§  ^'—Perceptions  of  Sight. 

sense  of  sight   receives   its   impressions;    and,    conse- 
quently, by  itself  it  can  give  us  no  information  beyond 
w..at  .s  involved  in  the  sensations  of  light.-of  pure  light 
or  of  colour.     But  in  mature  life  sight  is  the  sense  to 
which  we  commonly  resort  for  most  of  our  information 
regarding  the  external  world,  especially  for  such  inform" 
tion  as  involves  ideas  of  space.-the  magnitude  figure 
distance,  and  direction  of  bodies.     There  is,  the'efor     a 
more  uniform  association  of  these  ideas  wiU,  visual  sen- 
sations  than  with  the  sensations  of  any  other  sense    The 
association  will    be   shown   to   be,   in   some   instances 
practically  invariable,  and  therefore  irresistibly  and  in! 
stantaneously  suggestive. 

On  this  account,  while  it  was  comparatively  easy  to 
dissociate  Ideas  of  space  from  other  sensations,  ■■'has 
been  found  more  difficult  to  do  so  in  the  case  of  sioht 

thir,hr'"HT'r"""'"^  ''''^^•''^^"  made  to  show 
that  the  maided  sight  is  capable  of  perceiving  space  if 

not,  n  all  dimensions,  at  least  in  leng.h  and  bread^.  'l 

is,  therefore,  advisable  to  adduce  the  evidence,  on  which 

:r;;cfpr '^ '''■"'''^^ '''^' '''->-^-^'-'f. ---o 

(A)  We  shall  take  first  the  case  of  p!an,  extension. 
This  perception  need  not  detain  us  long.  I,  may  be  a 
question  whether  an  inde%iteconsciousne.ssnf.,(,V.iJ 


1 64 


Psycholojjj. 


w 


'  \\ 


INi   I! 


i! 


;? 


IS  not  Involved  in  the  consciousness  of  light  and  colour: 
that  is  a  problem  which  depends  on  the  ultimate  analysis 
of  the  Idea  of  space.     But  whatever  may  be  the  solution 
of  this  problem,  it  is  certain  that  definite  extension  in 
length  and  breadth  can  never  be  actually  perceived  by 
sight  alone.     Take,  for  illustration,  one  form  of  plane 
extension,  the  magnitude  of  a  body,  that  is,  the  extent 
which    It  covers  on   the  field  of  vision.     It  is  a  fact 
fiimihar  even  to  the  child,  that  to  sight  a  body  appears 
smaller  or  larger  in  proportion  to  its  distance,  and  that 
therefore  the  illusions  of  visible  magnitude  have  to  be 
corrected  by  reference  to  other  standards  of  measure- 
ment.    Consequently,    the  experience  of  persons   born 
bhnd,  and  afterwards  restored  to  sight,-an  experience  of 
which  a  more  explicit  account  will  presently  be  given  — 
tends  to  show  that  at  first  they  could   form  no  definite 
notion   regarding  the   magnitude  of  bodies   from   their 
Visible  appearance.     Thus  the  patient  of  Dr.  Franz  could 
not  understand  the  sign  iicance  of  perspective ;  it  seemed 
to  him  unnatural  that  the  figure  of  a  man  in  the  fore- 
ground   of  a    picture    should    be    larger   than   that    of 
a   house   or   a   mountain    in    the    background.      It   is 
a   singular   circumstance,    which    it    is   diflficult    to   ex- 
plain,   but    which    is    conclusive    on    the    point    under 
consideration,     that     both     Franz's     and     Cheselden's 
patients,    after    the    restoration    of    sight,    saw    for   a 
tmie   objects    magnified,    especially    when    in    motion.* 


•  This  fact  recalls  a  well-known  trait  of  the  narrative  in  Mark's 
Gospel,  viii..  24.  The  case  of  Cheselden's  patient  was  compli- 
catea  by  the  curious  fact,  ihat  one  eye  was  cured  before  the  other 
and  gave  rise  to  this  illusion.  When  the  second  eye  was  cured' 
ol>jects  appeared  to  it  larger  than  to  the  first  cured  eye,  though  no! 
so  arge  as  they  had  appeared  to  this  eye  immediately  after  its  cure 
I   have  discussed   the  problem  of  this  magnification   in  a  shori 


v^.. 


Perctpiiou. 


I6s 


sue  of  a  body  wl,,ch  form  such  a  familiar  fac   to  those 

en-  .„  a,  w,th  sight,  are  u„imagir,able  by  tl.e  congcnitally 

...    d  :ar,d  thus  Chcsclde.'s  patient  could  not  „nde^ 

.--J  how  h,s  mother  could  have  a  portrait  of  hi,  father 

puttmg  a  bushel  into  a  pint-measure 

percemifof'r''""''  t  ^"''"'^""'^  '"  '^gard  to  the 
percemon  of  figure,  ,vh,ch  is  u.erdy  the  outline  of  the 
extent  covered  by  a  body  on  the  field  of  vision.     Except 
■  n  the  case  of  a  few  objects  with  very  simple  outline,  such 
as  a  sph    e,  the  vts.ble  figure  of  a  body  varies  with  the 
pomt  of  v,ew  from   which  it  is  seen.      Consequently 
persons  born  blind,  after  being  restored  to  sigh,,  are 
unable   for  son.e   time  to   distinguish   by  their  v  sib  e 
appearance  even  objects  that  are  very  different  in  forn, 
and  are  obbged  to  have  recourse  to  the  iamiliar  sens  ! 
r    f .     '      '      ""''™'"  ^^"^ibility.    ThLs  Cheselden 
ells  of  h,s  pat,ent,  that  -he  knew  not  the  shape  of  any- 
ihmg,  nor  any  one  thing  from  another,  however  different 
m  shape  or  magnitude  ;  but  unon  being  told  what  thing, 
were,  whose  form  he  before  knew  fron,  feeling  he  woufd 
carefully  observe  that  he  n.ight  know  then^tgl     b  ' 
havtng  too  many  objects  to  learn  at  once,   he  f^go 
many  o.  them ;   and   (as   he   said)  at  first  learned  to 
know,    and    agam     forgot    a    thousand    things    in    a 

the  cat,  and  wh.ch  the  dog,  he  was  ashamed  to  ask  • 
catchmg  the  cat  (which  he  knew  by  feeling),  he  was' 
obeerved  to  look  at  her  stedfas.ly,  and  then  s    ting  h^ 


^^ograph  in  the  T,a.uaaion.  ./ .H.  R.ya,  Son.,y  oj  CanaJ.  ,„ 


1 66 


Psychology. 


down,  said,  '  So, 


!  I  shall  know 


ii 


1^ 


ihh  '  ^ 


i!  !j 


'i. 


[ 


J  another  time.' " 
It  may  be  added  that  Dr.  Franz's  patient  was  at  first 
perplexed  over  the  visible  ap^jearance  of  even  simple  geo- 
metrical figures,  though  he  had  made  some  progress  in 
the  study  of  geometry  l^efore  his  recovery  of  sight. 

These  facts  make  it  evident  that  the  visual  perception 
of  any  definite  plane  extension  is  not  an  immediate  and 
original  intuition  of  the  mind  through  the  sense  of  sight, 
but  must  be  ex;jlained  as  the  result  of  a  mental  process.' 

(B)  The  same  conclusion,  however,  is  still  more 
evident  in  the  case  of  solid  extension,  which  implies  the 
third  dimension  of  space,— depth,  or  distance  from  the 
eye. 

I.  The  impossibility  of  seeing  this  dimension  may,  in 
fact,  be  said  to  be  indicated  by  the  very  nature  of  vision. 

I.  To  use  a  phrase  of  Berkeley's,  distance  is  a  line 
turned  endwise  to  the  eye.  it  is,  therefore,  only  its  end, 
not  its  length,  ^hat  we  see.  Our  condition  may  be 
illustrated  by  reference  to  a  similar  condition  in  the  sense 
of  touch.  Were  the  end  of  a  wire  brought  into  contact 
with  the  hand  of  a  person  blind  or  blindfold  could  he 
tell  its  length?  It  might  be  but  a  short  kiutting-needle ; 
it  might  be  an  Atlantic  cable :  the  touch  of  the  end  would 
indicate  no  difference  of  length.  So  a  ray  of  light  may 
come  from  a  neighbouring  gas-lamp  or  from  a  star  count- 
less  millions  of  miles  away ;  it  is  merely  the  termination 
of  the  ray  that  strikes  the  eye. 

2.  All  parts  of  a  scene,  however  near  some,  however 
re :  :iot  -  others  may  be,  are  presented  on  the  retina  at  the 
same  elevation,  precisely  as  they  would  be  represented 
on  canvas  by  a  pamter.  There  is,  therefore,  nothing  in 
the  structure  or  action  of  the  eyes  to  indicate  various 
distances. 

II   But  it  may  be  urged  that  such  a  ;>m;7  arguments 


Perception. , 


267 

are  unsatisfactory,  unless  they  are  confirmed  by  facts 
.ndeed,  however  extraordinary  it  may  appear  in  the  face 
of  these  arguments,  it  will  be  shown  in  the  sequel  that 
as  far  as  can  be  judged  from  careful  experiments  on  new- 
bom  animals  of  some  species,  these  form  accurate  visual 
perceptions  of  distance  and  direction  without  requiring 
to  go  through  any  process  of  learning.  Br^t  whatever 
explanation  may  be  given  of  these  observations  on  other 
animals,  the  experience  of  human  life  does  not  allow  us 
to  endow  man  with  any  such  instinctive  cognition. 

To  prove  this  the  most  conclusive  evidence  is  that  of 
infants,  though  it  cannot  be  obtained  by  direct  testimony 
but  .nust  be  gathered  from  their  actions.     It  has  long 
been  familiar  to  mothers  and  nurses  that  children  require 
some   weeks'  experience   before   they   learn    to   notice 
things.     The  meaningless  gaze  of  an  infant,  even  wh-n 
striking  objects,  like  a  lamp,  are  passed  before  his  eyes 
has  long  been  regarded  as  showing  that  he  ,s  incompe- 
tent at  first  to  interpret  his  visual  sensations.     But  for- 
tunately we  are  not  left  to  the  vague  impressions  of  un- 
methodical observers ;  for  within  the  last  few  years  the 
mental  development  of  infancy  has  been  made  the  sub- 
ject of  numerous  observations,  conducted  with  the  minute 
accuracy  and  precaution  characteristic  oi  modern  science 
From  a  large  number  of  observations,  directed  specially 
to  the  development  of  visual  perception,  it  appears  that 
the  child  requires  some  weeks,  or  even  months,  to  master 
the  adjustments  of  the  ocular  muscles  nc  essary  to  form 
a  distinct  retinal  image,   and  that  it  is  long  after  this 
power  has  been  acquired  before  he  can  perceive  by  si-ht 
an  inequahty  in  the  distance  of  objects.  *  "^ 


'  DU  Seele  des  ICindes,  by  Dr.  Preyer  (Leipzig,  ,882),  pp.  35.41. 
See  especia-.y  the  summary  on  p.  39.      This  work  may  be  recom 


1 68 


.  Psychology. 


1' 

Ilii 

111 ; 


;l 


This  result  of  the  observations  made  on  infant  life  is 
happily  confirmed  in  the  most  unequivocal  manner  by  the 
experience  of  persons  in  maturer  years  who  have  been 
born  blind,  but  afterwards  restored  to  sight.  A  number 
of  such  cases  have  been  recorded  ;  but  probably  the 
most  important,  certainly  the  most  accessible  to  on 
English  reader,  are  those  of  whirh  the  reports  are  pre- 
served in  the  Philosophical  Transactions.'*  A  selection 
of  one  or  two  j^assages  from  the  first  and  the  last  of  these 
reports  will  sufficiently  indicate  the  conclusion  to  which 
they  point. 

I.  The  earliest  case,  and  the  c  le  most  frequently  cited, 
is  that  of  a  lad  born  with  a  cataract  of  an  unusually 
opaque  quality.  He  was  about  fourteen  years  of  agv- 
when  the  cataract  was  removed  by  Cheselden.  The  re- 
port of  this  case  has  been  already  cited  in  connection 


mended  as  the  latest,  and  probably  the  most  complete,  treatise  on 
the  infant-mind.  Earlier  works  are  mentioned  by  Wundt,  Gttutd- 
ziigeder  Physiologischen  Psychologie,  Vol.  ii.,  p.  218,  note  I,  (2nd 
ed).  The  work  of  M.  Perez  on  The  First  Three  Years  of  Child- 
hood, though  earlier  than  that  of  Dr.  Preyer,  has  recently  (i88c) 
appeared  in  an  English  translation. 

*  The  cases  are  these  :— (i)  Cheselden  s,  1728  ;  (2)  Ware's,  1801, 
where  there  is  reference  to  another  (p.  389)  ;  (3)  and  (4)  Home's 
iwo  cases,  which  are  of  minor  psychological  interest,  1S07  ;  (5) 
Wardrope's,  1826;  (6)  P>anz's,  1841.  Another  case  is  described  in 
Nunneley's  Organs  of  Visions  (1838).  p.  31.  Additional  cases  are 
referred  to  by  Plelmholtz,  Physiologische  Optik,  Vol.  ii.,  p.  178  (2nd 
ed.)  ;  by  Preyer,  Die  Seek  des  Kindes,  p.  404.  In  making  psyches- 
logical  inferences  from  the  data  of  these  cases,  it  should  never  be 
forgotten  that  the  patients  were  but  imperfectly  bl'nd,  all  l)eing  able 
to  perceive  the  difference  of  light  and  shade,  and  therefore  the 
presence  of  objects  before  the  eyes,  while  some  could  even  vaguely 
distinguish  colours.  It  should  also  be  borne  in  mind,  that  the 
paients  had  all  reached  a  somewhat  mature  notion  of  space  by  the 
use  of  the  other  senses,  if  not  also  by  their  imperfect  vision. 


Perception, 


169 


with  the  perception  of  plane  extension.      The  following 
statements  may  now  be  adduced  to  show  that  the  percep 
tion  of  the  third  dimension  of  space  through  the  newly 
recovered  sense  had  to  be  gradually  acquired  :-"VVhen 
he  first  saw,  he  was  so  far  from  making  any  judgment 
about  distances,  that  he  thought  all  objects   whatever 
ouched  h.s  eyes  (as  he  expressed  it),  as  what  he  felt  did 
iHs   skm.     ...     We   thought   he    soon   knew   what 
pictures  represented  which  were  showed  to  him,  but  we 
found  afterwards  we  were  mistaken  ;  for  about  two  months 
after  he  was  couched,  he  discovered  at  once  that  they 
represented  solid  bodies,  when,  to  that   time,    he  con 
sKlered  them  only  as  parti-coloured  plains,  or  surfaces 
diversified  with  variety  of  paints;  but  even  then  he  was 
no  less  surprised,  expecting  the  pictures  would  feel  like 
the  things  they  represented,  and  was  amazed  when  he 
found  those  parts,  which  by  their  light  and  shadow  ap- 
peared now  round  and  uneven,  felt  only  flat  like  the  rest  • 
and  asked  which  was  the  lying  sense,  feeling  or  seein<. '' 
2.  Ihe  other  case  to  be  cited  is  one  in  which  supe.for 
accuracy  seems  to  have  been  observed  in  making  and 
reporting  experiments.      The  patient  was  a  young  man 
practically   blind  from   birth,  of  good  intelligence,  well 
educated    and   acquainted   especially  with   geon>etrical 
figures.     He  was  about  eighteen  years  of  .ge  at  the  i.me 
of  h...  cure.     The  report  of  the  case  was  in   after  .  'e 
declared    by   the    patient   himself   to   be    suostaMi-My 

':orrect  -      After  relating  a  number  of  irterestir ,e,i 

^..eni.,  the  report  goes  on  :-"  When  the  p.-ent 'first 
acquired  the  faculty  of  sight,  all  objects  appeared  to  him 
so  rear,  that  ne  was  son.etimes  afraid  of  coming  ■•,  con- 


*See  a  letter  of  Mr.   Mahaffy's  in  the  Athenaum  for  January 
"nu,  1881.  where  there  is  an  Interesting  notice  of  iL^  oatient. 


^A 


5  £:'i 


170 


Psychology, 


W 


tact  with  them,  though  they  were  in  reah'ty  at  a  great 
distance  from  him.     ...     If  he  wished  to  form  an 
estimate  of  the  distance  of  objects  from  his  own  person, 
or  of  two  objects  from  each  other,  without  moving  from 
his  place,  he  examined  the  objects  from  different  points 
of  view  by  turning  his  head  to  the  right  and  to  the  left. 
Of  perspective  in  pictures  he  had  of  course  no  idea  ;  he 
could  distinguish  the  individual  objects  in  a  painting,'but 
could  not  understand  the  meaning  of  the  whole  picture. 
...     All  objects  appeared  to  him  perfectly  flat ;  thus, 
although  he  very  well  knew  by  his  touch  that  the  nose 
was  prominent,  and  the  eyes  sunk  deeper  in  the  head, 
he  saw  the  human  face  only  as  a  plane.     .     .     .     Even 
though  he  could  see  both  near  and  remote  objects  very 
well,  he  would  nevertheless  continually  have  recourse  to 
the  use  of  the  sense  of  touch."* 

It  thus  appears  that  the  visual  perception  both  of  solid 
and  of  plane  extension  is  gradually  acquired  ;  and  there- 
fore it  is  a  problem  for  the  psychologist  to  explain  the 
process  of  acquisition.  It  wiii  be  convenient  in  this  ex- 
planation to  separate  the  two  mod^      "  extension. 


i.  Extension  in  Depm. 

Here  there  are  two  conditions  of  perception  so  different 
that  it  is  necessary  to  consider  them  apart.  The  one  in- 
volves the  use  of  both  eyes  ;  the  other  does  not. 

(A)  Binocular  vision  affects  the  perception  of  depth 
only  when  objects  are  at  no  great  distance  ;  for  then  the 
eyes  must  be  turned  in  to  see  an  object,  and  turned  in 
the  more,  the  nearer  the  object  is.     This  will  be  evident 


*  Phil.  Tram,  for  1 841,  p.  66. 


Percept 


tort. 


I7J 


from  the  accompanying  diagram,  in  which  E  F  r.n.»      . 
'^^  eve,  and  Ox  .n  object  ne'a.  O^To^  m" 


as  the  di.ance.  ConseUn^rii^tr  1:^,1"^ 
.shes  „.,th  mcreasmg  distance,  it  is  obvious  that  wherin 
object  IS   very  remote,  the  optic  ax»s  m  ,«  h  ? 

parallel.     This  produces  two  JJTL  ?  T-''^ 

which  ar<.  of  „r.„    •     -a  °"  °'"'  sensib    ty, 

Which  are  of  great  significance  in  the  perception  of  denih 

n  space-one  a  muscular  -ensation  arising  fro„,   h.    h 
justment  of  the  optic  axes,  the  other  a  vluar^e    ation 

wT™eS  a  :  '^'^^"k'  ''°'"''  °'  "^*  ^-™  ^^ 
iwo  eyes  look  at  a  near  object. 

I.  It  has  been  already  mentioned  that  the  eye^  are 
s^pphed  with  an  elaborate  muscular  apparatus,  e  w'g 
.em  to  move  m  every  direction.  The  muscular  sensf 
b  hty  ,s  of  course  excited  in  the  movement  of  the  e," 

.hey  are  turned  inwards  or  outwards  to  see  obL^ 
near  or  more  remote;  and  the  muscular  sensations  Z 
.variably  produced  in  adjusting  the  eyes  to  diffe 
di-stances,  become  uniformly  associated  with  thediffeen 
distances  for  which  they  are  required.     The  r  s^ 

:  t  o'f  tt  ''■"'''''' "''  ^"^  p-'-'-  5  s  - 

'"'  °f  "^e  eyes,  ,s  suggested  irresistibly  and  instan 
..-neously,  appearing  in  consciousness  a3  l{  it  wer"  fnT 
mediately  perceived.  '" 

This  is  no  mere  hypothetical  explanation  of  the  per- 


Will 


M 


8i   ■; 


172 


Psychotogy. 


'm 

ception  of  distance.     It  can  be  verified  by  the  most 
satisfactory  evidence.      It  is  possible  to  alter  the  adjust- 
ment of  the  optic  axes  at  pleasure  without  altering  the 
real  position  of  objects  within  the  range  of  vision.      We 
can  thus  observe  the  effect  of  this  muscular  adjustment 
without  reference  to  any  effect  that  might  be  produced 
by  an  alteration  of  th'e  distance  of  objects.      If  there  is 
an  object  before  the  eyes,  and  they  are  directed  to  a 
point  in  front  of  it  or  behind  it,  in  the  former  case  it  ap- 
pears to  approach,   in  the   latter  to   recede;    and  the 
suggestion  of  the  appropriate  distance  is  so  irresistible 
that  one  yields  to  it,  even  when  it  is  known  to  bean 
illusion 

II.  The  other  guide  to  the  perception  of  relative  dis- 
tances IS  a  fact  of  visual  sensation-the  dissimilarity  of 
the  retinal  images  of  an  object.     It  must  be  evident 
from  the  foregoing  diagram,  that  this  dissimilarity,  like 
the  angle  formed  by  the  optic  axes,  varies  inversely  as 
the  distance  of  the  object  seen;  in  other  words,  the 
difference  between  the  pictures  formed  on  the  two  reMn^ 
increases  as  the  object  approaches  the  eyes.      Another 
invariable  association  is  thus  formed,  resulting  in  an  irre- 
sistible  and  instantaneous  suggestion. 

Here,  again,  the  process,  by  which  the  perception  is 
formed,  admits  of  complete  verification  both  by  positive 
and  by  negative  evidence. 

I.  The  appearance  of  depth  in  space-of  soliditv- 
may  be  artificially  produced  by  imitating  this  natural 
sign.  The  stereoscopist  takes  two  pictures  of  an  object 
from  the  two  different  points  of  view  from  which  it  would 
naturally  be  seen  by  the  eyes ;  and  when  these  are  ad- 
justed so  that  each  eye  sees  only  the  picture  intended 
for  It,  the  object  stands  out  with  all  the  appearance  of 
colid  extension  which  it  possesses  in  reality. 


Perception.  173 

1^    But  this  explanation  Is  more  powerfully  confirmed 
by  the  negative  fact,  that  the  appearance  of  solid  exten- 
sion IS  not  produced  when  a  near  object  is  seen  with 
both  eyes  If  the  images  on  both  are  identical.      Thus 
two  solid  bodies,  placed  near  at  hand  in  such  a  position 
as  to  produce  the  same  picture  on  both  retina,  appear 
plane       But  a  more  famil' .r  illustration  is  found  in  the 
tact,  that  no  pamting,  however  skilful  its  imitation  of 
nature  may  be,  ever  produces  the  stereoscopic  appear- 
ance, when  seen  near  at  hand  with   both   eyes      'J'he 
reason  is  that,  if  the  object  or  scene  represented  were 
really  before  us,  it  would  produce  a  different  image  on 

An  objection  may  perhaps,  in  some  minds,  be  ur^^ed 
against  this  analysis  on  the  ground  that  we  do  not  see  die 
two  alleged  pictures,  but  merely  one  object.     In  reply  to 
this  It  IS  necessary  only  to  point  out,  that  we  ^0  see  and 
can  at  pleasure  attend  to  the  two  retinal  pictures      This 
may  be  made  evident  in  various  ways.      We  may  for 
example  by  closing  either  eye,  see  the  reth.al  pictures 
separately  when  we  shall  find  that  the  one  eye  sees  more 
of  the  right,  the  other  more  of  ^he  left  of  an  object     Or 
again   we  may  direct  the  two  eyes  .0  different  points  of 
an  object,  and  by  this  the  spell  of  uniform  association  fs 
broken      This  may  be  done  by  holding  an  ol.ject  before 
you,  and  directing  your  eyes  to  some  point  beyond  it  •  or 


This  was  discovered,  nearly  four  centuries  ago,  by  the  rcnius 
of  Leonardo  da  Vinci.  See  his  7^^. «//...« /w',;  (Lsafey 
Rigaud)  p  57.  But  the  significance  of  the  disc^iy  r  n  „ ej 
unrecognised  till  it  was  taken  „p  and  developed  hy  Si,  Ch  fes 
N     eatstone  .n  a  celebrated  paper   on    Binocular  Vision,   ihe 


i 

1  >' 


m  :  1 

4^  K^  M 


'74 


Psychology. 


i| 


f  you  cannot  readily  control  the  movement  of  the  eve, 
by  voluntary  effon,  you    may  by  the  application  o 
finger,  push  one  eyeball  out  of  the  direceion.  to  which 
would  naturally  adjust  itself.      J,,  either  c  se  The  .„• 
retmal  pictures  will  be  at  once  apparent  • 

But  when  the  natural  adjustment  of  the  eyes  is  no. 
mterfered  w„h  the  presence  of  two  dissimilar  pi.ue 
on  the  retm»,s  invariably  associated  with  the  idea  "" 
^ngle  sohd  body  at  a  certain  distance.  ,t  is  i„fi  ,  °  ly 
more  .mportant  that  the  n.ind  should  dwell  upon  he 
fact  assocated  with  .he  two  pictures  than  upon 'he  p,t 
ures  themselves;  and  there  is,  therefore,  nothing  tlche  ^ 
he  suggesfon  of  that  fact.     The  two  pictured,  accord 

....t,b,  and  mstantaneously  .he'^;:ser^^^ 

Ob  eo ,   and   they  are   not   themselves   noticed   in   the 

m;ta.iLaneousness  of  the  suggestion. 

(B)  The  binocular  vision  of  near  objec.s,  however  is 
"self  maternity  assisted  by  various  data!  upon  whiJh  'he 


SMII    Closer    analogue    i.,    f<l,ul     71 '  'f  '''"'''"'' "^ 

phenomenon  of  do'ble  he..ri  g  „i  "h  LT:^:  f' r  ""''""""■=' 
to  one  ear  being  ,e.  ,nic,  i„  L  se„.iW,i,;Th  n  .  ^'l^^ 
way,   ,s  It  this  cause  of  double  vision  xL,  •      '"^  "7^"-     ^y  ^^e 

"  Methinks  I  see  these  things  with  parted  eye, 
When  everything  seems  double." 


Perception. 


'75 

can  be  den.ed  from  the  use  of  two  eyes.  In  looking  at 
remote  objects  the  ixp«  of  .1,0  ■         '°oi«mg  at 

onH  ,k    ■  '"*  ^>"^^  "'■^  virtually  Tiarallel 

and  .he  images  on  the  retina  virtually  identical    so  that 

'"  Pr"''"«  ''^''^■^'=^'  "«  -«  «"«ed  .0  signs  ;hicMo 
not  depend  on  the  inclination  of  the  op.ic'axel-s  gn! 
wh  ch  are  ,nd,spensable  also  in  monocular  vision.       ^ 

I.  Probably  the  most  in,portant  of  these  si<.ns  is  the 
V  s,ble  or  retinal  magnitude,  that  is,  the  siz'e  0  he 
retmanmage.  This,  as  even  the  child  knows  varie! 
aversely  as  the  distance;  and  an  uniform  assod^t b 
thus  formed,  with  the  usual  result  upon  susgesiion  1  h  s 
result  may  be  artificially  produced  by  vary  ng  ,  e  re  in 

object.  Such,  ,n  fact,  ,s  the  artifice  adopted  lor  brin.ino 
remote  objects  within  the  range  of  distLt  visio  'b^ 
applymg  the   laws  of  optics   an  instrun,ent,-the  teie 

of  remote  objects,  and  reduces  in  proportion  thdr 
apparent  distance.  Thus  a  telescope,  magnifying  „ 
..mes  gives  you  a  retinal  image  of  the  same  ^ize  as  If  1  e 
object  were  ten  times  nearer;  and  the  mind,  ins.e..d  of 
dwelling  on  the  m.agnified  image,  rushes  rather  o  tl^e 
.act  of  increased  nearness,  which  is  comnionly  associated 
Kith  such  increase  of  visible  magnitude  '"'°<^'-'"^d 

The  visible  magnitude  by  itself,  however,  cannot  tell 
the  distance  of  an  object.  It  is  true,  if  „  objec  i 
varying  ,n  apparent  size,  it  may  be  known  '.o  be  a  , 
proaching  or  receding,  as  when  .  distant  sail  grows  lar!  r 
or  smaller  while  we  gaze  on  it.  But  to  know'the  specff  c 
d  stance  of  a  body  from  its  visible  size,  we  must  have  „ 
dea  of  Hs  size  from  some  other  source-from  some  oh" 
ense-besidcs  sight.  This  requirement,  however,  i  o 
.enous  inconvenience,  as  we  have  formed  independent 


;  j 


176 


Psychology. 


';.-;! 


|i 


ideas  of  size  with  regard  to  all  the  familiar  objects  of 
daily  experience. 

If.  Another  help  to  the  visual  perception  of  depth  in 
space  is  the  distribution  of  light  and  shade.  On  a  plane 
surface  light  falls  equally  ;  it  is  interrupt:!  and  falls  un- 
equally on  a  solid  or  a  number  of  solic  ,  making  up  a 
scene.  The  unequal  distribution  of  light  and  shade, 
therefore,  becomes  suggestive  of  the  solid  extension,  to 
which  it  is  due.  The  following  facts  may  be  noticed  in 
illustration. 

1.  A  skilful  picture,  seen  with  one  eye,  especially  if 
isolated  by  a  tube,  produces  the  stereoscopic  appearance, 
because  the  conditions  of  natural  vision  are,  in  one  way, 
thus  fulfilled. 

2.  For  binocular  vision  solidity  is  easily  imitated, 
provided  the  imitation  be  kept  at  a  sufficient  distance 
from  the  eyes.  On  lofty  cornices  or  ceilings  the  appear- 
ance of  bas-relief  may  be  produced,  though  it  should 
never  be  attempted  in  the  imitation  of  pillars,  which 
descend  to  the  floor,  and  can  therefore  be  approached 
by  spectators.  On  this  principle,  also,  are  founded  the 
popular  exhibitions  known  as  dioramas,  in  which  pictures 
of  life-size  are  exhibited  on  a  stage  at  a  sufficient  distance 
from  the  spectators  to  fulfil  the  requirements  of  natural 
vision.  It  is  said  that  in  these  exhibitions  the  illusion 
of  reality  is  at  times  so  irresistible  as  to  have  completely 
overcome  some  of  the  spectators. 

3.  An  interesting  experiment  may  be  added.  The 
visible  difference  between  concavity  and  convexity  con- 
sists in  the  fact,  that  in  the  former  the  shadow  is  on  the 
side  from  which  the  light  comes,  in  the  latter  on  the 
opposite  side.  To  determine,  therefore,  whether  an 
object  is  concave  or  convex,  we  must  know  the  side  from 
which  the  light  comes ;  and  if  that  be  unknown,  an 


Perception,  ,  -- 

object  may  appear  either  concave  or  convex,  sometimes 
at  will.      For  this  reason  also  a  concavity,  seen  throuMh 
an  inverting   telescope,  appears    convex;    a  convexity 
concave.     A  curious  illusion  of  this  sort  is  mentioned  by 
Sir  David  Brewster.     One  day,  as  he  was  walking  with  a 
lady  on  the  sea-shore  at  St.  Andrews,  the  footmarks  .nd 
j     other  indentations  in  the  sand  appeared  to  both  to  be 
raised      He  explained  ihis  appearance  by  the  fact,  that, 
though  the  sunlight  was  on  t^  e  right,  yet  on  the  left  there 
was  a  bright  fringe  of  white  surf,  which  seems  to  have 
momentarily    simulated     the     hght     that    caused    the 
shadows.* 

III.  A  third  sign  of  distance  in  space  is  the  comparative 
sharpness  or  vagueness  of  outline,  and  brilliance  or  dull- 
ness   of  colour,   with   which   objects   are   seen.     These 
features  in  the  visible  appearance  of  objects  depend  on 
the  interference  of  the  atmosphere  with  the  rays  of  light  • 
and  they  vary,  therefore,  with  the  state  of  the  atmosphere' 
The  result  is  that,  in   an  unusually  dear  atmosphere' 
bodies  are  apt  to  appear  nearer,  in  a  dull  atmosphere 
farther  off,   than  they  really  are.      Accordingly,  people 
accustomed   to   a   humid   climate   find   that,   in  a  dry 
climate,  they  are  often  deceived  by  an  illusory  appear- 
ance of  nearness.     The  same  principle  explains  why  it  is 
that,  ,n  pictures,  objects  in  the  background   must   be 
sketched  with  less  definite  outline,  ani  their  colouring 
toned  down,  else  they  would  simply  appear  to  be  small 
wjtiiout  being  remote. 

IV.  The  number  of  intervening  objects  also  assists  in 
the  perception  of  distance,  these  being  usually  more 
numerous  in  proportion  to  the  remoteness  of  the  body 
seen.     This  explains  the  difficulty,  especially  for  a  lands- 

♦  On  the  Stereoscope,  Chap.  i6. 
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man,  of  estimating  distance  at  sea ;  and  a  simik  r  difficulty 
is  also  experienced  by  an  unpractised  eye  on  the  prairies 
of  the  West  or  the  vast  desert  plains  of  the  East. 

V.  An  additional  assistance  in  this  perception  is  derived 
from  a  somewhat  obscure  muscular  sensation  connected 
with  the  adjustmenf  of  the  ocular  focus.     The  distance 
of  the  focus  behind  a  lens  varies  inversely  as  the  distance 
of  the  object  in  front.     In  order  to  distinct  vision  it  is 
necessary  that  the  focus  of  the  lens  in  the  eye  should  fall 
exactly  on   the  retina;    and   consequently  it  must  be 
variously  adjusted  in  accordance  with  the  varying  dis- 
tances   of  objects.      The   process   of  adjustment   lor.g 
formed  a  subject  of  dispute  among  physiologists;  but  \i 
is  now  generally  ascribed  to  an  increase  in  the  convexity 
of  the  lens  by  the  pressure  of  the  ciliary  muscle.     This 
will  explain  why  we  feel  a  painful  strain  when  an  object 
is  brought  too  close  to  the  eye. 

VI.  As  a  guide  by  which  we  are  frequently,  if  not  al- 
ways,   directed  in  the  perception  of  distance,   may  De 
mentioned    the   motion   of  objects   across  the  field  of 
vision.     As   the   most   of  objects   are  stationary,   their 
apparent  motion  is  generally  due  to  ourselves— to  the 
movement  of  the  whole  body,  or  a  turn  of  the  head,  or 
simply  a  sweep  of  the  eye.     In  the  apparent  motion  thus 
produced,  the  nearer  objects  are,  the  more  rapidly  do 
they  flash  across  the  field  of  vision,  while  they  approach 
the  appearance  of  being  stationary  in  proportion  to  their 
remoteness.     Such  a  very  obtrusive  phenomenon  cannot 
be  without  its  effect  on  oui  ordinary  consciousness;  and, 
especially  in  a  complicated  scene,  like  a  forest,  it  will  be 
found  that  the  idea  of  relative  distances,  obtained  from  a 
fixed  gaze,  is  extremely  indefinite  wl.en  compared  with 
that  which  is  acquired  by  a  series  of  glances  that  sweep 
the  scene.     Wliis  is  confirmed  by  the  experience  of  Dr. 


11 

Perception.  ^^ 

ii.  /V<7;/tf  Exlension, 

.  "^^^  ^^^^^  perceptions,  involving  merelv  nhn.  .  ^ 
sion  are  those  of  magnitude  and  situation  '  '  "'  "^^" 

in  the  illustration  of  obtcs  »hose    i!/  '''""  "''"• 

artist  adopts  the  exped^ntlf    ,  !  "  ''"''"™'"'  ">« 

pan-son  so'.e  ftX  U' ''r^r 'rf'^^  ^°^  ^°- 
Consequently  in  order  to  udVof  th.  ,  "  'S"^^" 
an  object  by  sight   it,  1!    ^  '^'''  '"='8"i"'de  of 

sideration  Jo^^i^  itt'^ir"'  "'  '^'''  ''"°  ^°"■ 
it  follows  that  any  cause    whl     T'""""*-     ^^^  '"^^ 

distance,  will  a^eit  e^::iiyt:  ;:J:r  ^/^rT:' 
sriijar  :r  ;rrir-^  ''•  '----^  '^  ^'" 

-«all,  it  cannot  but  app Lr  '  be  T''.  ^""P-^'i-'y 
dinnnutive  size;  while  '^  Lj^t  "'"'"^''-'X 
object  forms  a  compar'a.ively  rgefl  e  ';  tt  "  """ 
•t  must  to  appearance  enlaJ..  in  L  Zf  "'"■'-■""^. 
is  anything  to  make  ir  Z  ,  I  ^miensions,  ,f  there 
reality.  ^  "  "'"'"  '*"''"  "ff  'ban  it  is  in 


i8o 


Psychology, 


.* 


Among  the  more  familiar  facts  illustrative  of  this  may 
be  mentioned  the  well-known  illusions  of  magnitude  pro- 
duced by  the  comparative  clearness  or  obscurity  of  the 
atmosphere.  Objects  seen  through  a  fog,  or  even  at 
night,  whether  by  starlight  or  moonlight,  always  loom  in 
vaster  proportions,  because,  while  they  seem  at  an  obscure 
distance,  they  yet  produce  a  retinal  image  of  undim  iished 
magnitude.  This  pi.enomenon  is  so  familiar  that  it  is 
frequently  alluded  to  in  literature.  Thus  Tennyson 
speaks  of 

*' Towers,  that,  larger  than  themselves 

In  their  own  darkness^  thronged  ioto  the  moon." 

But  more  beautifully  Sir  Bedivere  is  pictured  in  Morte  d* 
Arthur: — 

*'  But  the  other  swiftly  strode  from  ridge  to  ridge, 
Clothed  with  his  breath,  and  looking,  as  he  walked, 
Larger  than  human  on  the  frozen  hills." 

Again,  the  presence  ^-r  absence  of  intervening  objects, 
as  it  influences  our  perception  of  distance,  modifies  also 
our  judgment  of  magnitude.  Thus  to  a  landsman's  eye 
at  sea  distant  bodies  seem  unusually  small,  because, 
owing  to  the  absence  of  intervening  objects,  they  seem 
nearer  than  they  really  are.  Probably  it  is  for  this  reason 
also  that  objects  at  the  foot  of  a  perpendicular  height, 
when  seen  from  the  top,  appear  of  diminished  size.*  On 
the  other  hand,  it  has  long  been  observed  that  the  moon 
on  the  horizon  looks  as  if  it  were  of  larger  diameter  than 
when  it  has  risen  high  into  the  heavens.  The  difference, 
indeed,  seems  to  depend,  in  some  measure,  on  the  state 


*  A  fine  illustration  of  this  effect  is  the  imaginary  description  of 
the  view  from  the  cliffs  of  Dover  in  King  Lea^  Act  iv.,  Scene  6. 


Perception.  ^^^ 

of  Che  „„,osphere;.  but  it  disappears  ,o  a  Inr.e  extent 

'u:ro.Ttr:Lro:ur""  '"--^^  ^  -^"^  -•- 

Another  illusion  may  be  mentioned  here  as  exneri 
need  by  some  persons  in  railway  travellin"  ^     w  ^ 
'ram  is  movmg  at  the  ordinary  rale  nf  ,,i  , 

objects  in  the  vicinity  scud  acrlThe  tr  vTitt'S 

.ric:!:  r  "^  ^""^'"^^^  """^-'-  -d"- .  on 

Butthr     .'''""  ""'■■"^  "•^"  "'«>-''^«  in  reality 
"o"  lll'lr'""^  -«--^'^«'-  an  apparent  diminu" 

To  complete  the  explanation  of  the  nerren.i.,„  < 
magnitude,  it  ought  to  be  added  that  l"^^'''"'  °\ 
vasfpr  ^^\s\^r.i.    .u  tiuuea  mat,  m  the  case  of 

sTeep  o?th?'         "T""""  '^  ^''^^'^  "^  '"^  -"-"la 

fo  the  ;  J    ,  alternative,  however,  introduces  us 

to  he  artificial  methods  of  measuring  space  which  arl 
distmct  from  the  estimates  of  natural  vision.  " 

ojects  on  the  (ield  of  vision,  we  implicidy  include  the 
relative  situations  of  different  parts  ol  the  Lm     ol, l 
and    hese  relative  situations  constitute  its  visible  tC' 
Smia  ion.  i„  this  comprehensive  sense,  is  perceived  b; 
da  a  that  are  partly  visual,  and  partly  muscular.  ' 

poi?o7t:rinrx;:dtlL^;i- -  -^  - 

tho.  .1,  •  ^  ^  Jnvariable  experience  we  learn 

«ords,  by  Its  essential  siructure  .he  eye° forms  an  invited 
•  Helmhollz,  PirsMsUcJi,  O^M.  pp.  63<v_,, 


Psychology, 

image  of  every  object,  of  the  whole  visible  world.  It 
soems  to  have  been  a  puzzling  problem  to  many  minds, 
that,  with  an  inverted  image  of  objects  on  the  retina,  we 
should  still  see  them  erect,  But  the  puzzle  dissolves  at 
cnce  if  we  bear  in  mind  that  the  retinal  image  is  not 
perceived  by  us,  but  is  merely  a  sign  suggestive  of  certain 
spatial  relations.  The  suggestion,  however,  is  governed, 
as  in  all  other  cases,  by  the  laws  of  association.  Now, 
in  everyday  experience  we  associate  an  impression  on 
the  right  side  of  the  retina,  not  with  an  object  to  the 
right,  but  with  an  object  to  the  left ;  and  a  similar  asso- 
ciation is  formed  in  the  case  of  all  other  positions. 
Consequently  all  the  associations  of  ordinary  life  suggest 
positions  for  objects  the  very  reverse  of  those  parts  of  the 
retina,  on  vvhich  visual  sensations  are  felt. 

Instead,  therefore,  of  its  beirg  unintelligible  that  we 
should  see  objects  erect  by  means  of  an  inverted  retinal 
image,  it  would  be  wholly  unnatural, — it  v.-cjld  imply  a 
reversal  of  all  the  usual  associations  of  life,— to  see  ob- 
jects in  any  other  positions  than  those  in  which  they 
appear.  Occasionally,  indeed,  new  associations  are 
formed,  and  it  is  surprising  how  rapidly  perception 
adapts  itself  to  them.  The  microscopist  soon  learns  to 
move  his  object  "  instinctively  "  in  thv^  right  direction ; 
and  in  civilized  life  all  per  ms  acquire,  at  an  early  age, 
the  faculty  of  dressing  beiore  a  mirror,  guided  by  an 
image  in  which  right  and  left  change  their  natural  posi- 
tions. But  that  such  dexterities  are  acquired  by  a  more 
or  less  gradual  process,  may  be  perhaps  rendered  more 
evident  to  those  who  have  forgotten  the  process  of  ac- 
quisition, by  recalling  the  awkwardness  of  any  unusual 
association,  such  as  the  first  attempt  to  use  a  razor  or  a 
pair  of  scissors  under  the  guidance  of  an  image  in  a 
mirror. 


Perception, 


183 


n.  It  has  been  already  observed  that  the  perception 
of  distance  ,s  very  materially  assisted  by  the  rr^oticn  of 
the  eyes.  An  equal  value  must  be  attached  to  their 
motion  m  the  perception  of  situation.  This  can  be  tested 
n  ordmary  experience  by  comparing  the  vague  result  of 
a  fixed  gaze  on  a  scene,  where  the  relative  positions  of 
obectsarenot  otherwise  known,  with  the  distinct  idea 
obtained   from  a  series   of  shifting  glances.      It   thus 

established   m   daily   experience  between   the   external 
position  of  an  object  and  the  muscular  feeling  of  ad- 
justing the  eyes  to  look  at  it.     This  statement  finds  an 
interesting  confirmation  in  the  results  that  are  sometimes 
observed  to  follow  from  paralysis  of  the  ocular  muscles 
Cases  are  mentioned,  in  which  the  rea,>s  externus,^tho 
muscle  that  pulls  the  eye  horizontally  outwards,-has 
been  paralysed  by  a  sudden  injury.      The  patient,  how. 
ever,  will  continue  making  ineffectual  efforts  ^o  move  the 
eye  m  the  direction  in  which  it  was  wont  to  be  drawn  by 
the  paralysed  muscle.      There  is,  therefore,  excited  in 
consciousness  a  feeling  of  effort,  though  it  is  followed  by 
no  overt  movement;  that  is  to  say,  the  patient  feels  as 
if  he  were  looking  in  a  different  direction,  while  the  scene 
represented  on  the  retina  remains  unchanged.      By  an 
irresistible  suggestion,  therefore,  the  whole  scene  appears 
to   shift   in    the   direction   which   has   been    uniformly 

associated  m  his  mind  with  the  felt  effort  of  adjusting  the 
eye.*  ''        " 

It  remains  to  be  added  that  the  direction  in  which  we 
are  looking  depends  on  the  adjustment,  not  only  of  the 
eyes,  but  also  of  the  head,  and  that  therefore  the  mus- 


p/9uTnd  edT'''''*  ''"'  ^^^"'^'^'''^'''  Psychologic,  Vol.  ii., 


w^ 


184 


Psychology. 


.1  'i 


ii  a 


cular  feeling  connected   with   this  adjustment  forms  a 
factor  in  the  perception  of  situation. 

Concluding  Obsen>ations.  There  are  a  few  points 
connected  with  visual  perception,  which  could  not  so 
conveniently  be  introduced  into  the  above  exposition, 
and  may  therefore  be  now  noticed  at  the  close. 

I.  The  perceptions,  whose  acquisition   has  just  been 
ex[)lained,  seem  to  be  congenital  in  some  of  the  lower 
animals;    and    this    fact    ha3    sometimes    appeared   to 
niiUtate  against  the  theory  that  they  are  not  possessed  at 
bnth,  but  must  be  gradually  formed,  by  man.     Attempts 
have  been  made  to  question  the  correctness  of  the  usual 
interpretation    put    upon    the    actions   of  those    young 
animals  that  seem  to  direct  their  movements  by  sight 
almost  from  the  very  moment  of  birth.      With  regard  to 
some  of  these  animals,  certainly,  observations  have  yet  to 
be  made  with  sufficient   care   to  show  that  their  first 
movements  might  not  be  directed  with  equal  accuracy  by 
extraordinary  acuteness  of  smell  and  muscular  feeling. 
But  the  experiments  of  Mr.  Douglas  A.  Spalding  have 
apparently  placed  it  beyond  doubt,  that  the  chick  of  the 
domestic  hen,  as  well  as  the  young  of  some  other  birds 
are  able  to  perceive  by  sight  all  dimensions  of  space  as 
soon  as  they  are  f  lirly  out  of  the  shell.*     The  explanation 
of  this  congenital  perception  belongs  to  Animal  Psycho- 
logy.    It  forms,  in  fact,  a  part  of  the  general  problem  of 
instinct.      But,  even  if  the  perception  is  admitted  to  be 
instinctive  in  some  of  the  lower  animals,  tiie  admission 
would  simply  accord  with  the  obvious  fact,  that  several 
powers,  which  are  instincts  in  other  animals,  must  be 
slowly  acquired  by  man. 


•  The'^e  experiments  are  related  by  Mr.  Spalding  with  interesting 
detail  in  an  ariicle  on  Instinct  in  MacnuUaii's  Magazine  foi 
February,  1873. 


iii  ai 


Perception. 


I8s 


value  of  1,  T  u"  """•«^"'"'««  'he  extent  or  the 
value  of  those  .deas  which  wc  receive  through  the  sense 
of  s,ght,  and  difficult,  therefore,  to  describe  the  n,e,,al 
cond.t,on  of  a  n,an  born  blind.  To  interrogate  such  a 
person  philosophically  would   throw  light  on  many  an 

ta'en^  "n  „,::  7:rrr  """''^'"  "-=  -""^-^ 
;-ni....  The:;e;r:r;:::'chi  it::i -„^ 

.he  fact  that  the  blind  ™„st  use  the  langu.^e  lie 
derLd^ron;  Th"  '"'  '"^'  """""'""  "'  "^  ^^eas  are 
al.o  of  the  words  that  we  employ  can  find  their  full 
mterpretation  only  in  visual  ideas.     Accordingly  Je  are 
apt  to  be  misled  by  the  blind  man's  employment  of  o" 
anguage,  and  to  take  for  granted  that  he  a.iaches  ,o  tha 
language  the  same  meaning  as  ourselves.     But  nmw  h 
standing  this  difficulty,  the  following  facts  are  obX:: 

..  Ihe   fundamental   deficiency   of  the   congeniiallv 
bl.no  consists,  of  course,  in  their  inabiliiy  ,o  i"  a„d 
here  ore  to  /«,„„.„,  ,i„ht  or  colour.      At  t!„,es,1"  de.d' 
they    It  upon  happy  expressions  to  describe  d.ffereiKes 
of  colon,    m  cenain  aspects.      Such  is  the  well-kno'v" 
description  of  red  as  being  •'  like  the  sound  of  a  tr      "   " 
ascribed  to  a  blind  man  by  Locke.      So  also  the  bl  ,td 
Di.  Moyes  ren,arked  that  red  gave  him  a  disagree-ible 
sensation  like  the  touch  of  a  saw,  and  that  2 "l^. 
colours  decreased  m  harshness  towards  green,  which  Zl 

surface.t      It  is  obviously  natural  that  the  blind  should 


•D  Stewart's  IK.is.  Vol.  iv.,  p.  304.  (Ma,nil,„„'s  ed.). 


186 


1! 


m. 


f    ' 

ill: 

if; 


Ml 


Psycfioiogy. 


form  their  conception  of  colours,  either  from  sounds  of 

from   touches   or   from    both,    as   these   are   the    most 

important  sensations  left  to  them.      But  all  such  com- 

parisons  brmg  out,  only  the  more  clearly,  the  insuperable 

defect  m  tlie  physical  sensibility  of  the  blind.      They 

pomt  to  the  analogy  between  colours  and  other  sensations 

in  certam  general  characteristics  of  all  feeling ;  they  do 

not  express  the   special  characteristic   of  colour  •    they 

describe  wherein  the  sensations  of  colour  resemble,  not 

wherein  they  diflfer  from,  other  sensations. 

2.  As  a  result  of  this  defective  sensibility  there  is  a 
corresponding  defect  in  the  power  of  perception.     Body, 
as  body,— as  extended, -the  blind  perceive  only  through 
the  tactile  and  muscular  senses  ;  and  though  they  can 
recognise  the  existence  of  objects  at  a  distance  from  the 
organism  by  an  instrument  in  the  hand,  by  sound    or 
even  by  smell,  yet  they  are  unable  to  comprehend*  an 
agent  which  can  bring  within  the  ken  of  sense  bodies 
that  are  millions  of  miles  away,  so  that  their  mechanical 
and  other  properties  may  be  made  the  object  of  scientific 
investigation.      This  inability  is  strikingly  indicated  by 
several  attempts,  made  by  blind  men,  to  describe  visual 
perception.      Thus  M.  du  Puiseaux,  the  bli-id  son  of  a 
Professor  of  Philosophy  at  the  University  of  Paris,  is  said 
to  have  remarked :_"  The  eye  is  an  organ  on  which  the 
air  *  should  have  the  same  effect  as  my  stick  on  my 


of  a  trumpet  seemed  like  yellow,  of  a  drum  like  red,  of  an  organ 
like  green,  etc.  (Maudsley's  Physiology  of  the  Mind.  p.  93,  note). 

Mle  has  no  conception  oi  light,  merely  of  a  substance  which  can 
be  felt  by  contact.  It  may  be  interesting  to  compare  the  case  of 
Massieu,  who  was  stone-deaf  from  birth,  and  who,  in  trying  to 
conceive  sound,  imagined  that  persons  hearing  *^ saw  with  their 
ears'  when  they  could  not  see  with  their  eyes,  as,  for  example,  by 
mght.    Xitto'.  T/i^Z^^.r/i'^v/w,  p.  158,  (Am.  ed.). 


Perception.  ,3, 

hand^"-th,it  is,  a  kind  of  touch.      When  asked  if  h. 

touch      1/       ?      f "'      '^''  '°°"^''  "">"  'he  hands  to 

oil  h '  '  "'"'''°'''  "^  "^  "^'l  '<>  '-prove  th! 

organ  I  h,ve  as  to  g,ve  me  the  one  I  want."* 

se^sVLrirsti  hrnVptt.tiarr 

c^^p—toX^telda^^^^^ 

could  distinguish  tnen  o";  in  th  e 'ir  K   'l '" 

"s  s'Turrn^r  ^-^-  --eVb;  ,t;r; 
adds  r.t  d^irrh:  a  i^ir "^-  ^'-  ^' 

objects  in  a  different  way,-  „  the  '  '  "of  T'""°"  °' 
tact  effected  by  threads  b^wl' LTerald '""'  ""■ 

As   .llustrating   funher  the   mental  ccndi   ■■       • 
congenially  blind  man.  it  „,ay  be  added  that      ' 
recovering  s.ght,  he  takes  some  time  to  ac> 

s7crti:t':iut;;rr-r^'''r'--- 

Chese,de„.s  patient,  tha';  ^C ne  Vt^"  lllS  to 
■magme  any  li.nes  beyond  the  bounds  he  saw/  L"  om 

00k  biS"      ""''""     '  "'  "'°'^  ''""^^  -""i 


•  Quarterly  Review  for  October,  1865. 

t  Abcrcrombie's  Intellectuall^owas,  p.  220, 


iSS 


Psychology. 


n  I 


f  6.—Afuscu/ar  Perceptions. 

There  is  only  one  of  the  general  senses  that  is  of  very 
great  value  m  furnishing  matenals  of  cognition,  and  that 
IS  the  muscular  sense.  Accordingly,  i.,  quitting  the  per- 
ceptions  of  the  special  senses  we  shall  confine  our  atten- 
tion to  musciilar  perceptions. 

The  muscular  sensations,  from  which  most  perceptions 
are  derived,  are  those  of  a  dead  strain,  or  of  slow  move- 
ment. The  sensations  of  rapid  movement  are  generally 
too  exciting  to  admit  of  being  calmly  examined,  and  used 
as  materials  of  knowledge;  while,  even  in  the  case  of  a 
dead  strain,  the  strain  must  be  moderate,  as  an  excessive 
strain  is  apt  to  deaden  the  sensibility 

L  The  first  and  fundamental  perception  of  this  sense 
fs  that  of  the  degree  of  muscular  efibit  put  forth      The 
sensations    of   muscular    effort    may,     of    course,    be 
associated  and  compared  like  others ;  and  the  readiness 
of  suggestion,  as  well  as  the  acuteness  of  discrimination, 
thus  originated,  are  marvellous.     It  is  upon  such  percep- 
tions that  general  dexterity,  as  well  as  gracefulness,  of 
movement  depends.     Some  of  the  muscular  perceptions 
have  been  already  noticed  in  connection  with  the  per- 
ceptions of  touch,  where  it  was  shown  that  the  laiter 
would  be  comparatively  insignificant  without  the  aid  of 
the  former.      Here,  therefore,   it  may  be  sufficient  to 
notice  an  example  or  two  of  special  muscular  acuteness. 
It  was  shown,  m  the  preceding  section,  how  the  ocular 
muscles  are  called  into  play  in  judging  the  relative  dis- 
tances of  visible  objects ;  and  it  must  be  obvious  that 
the  muscular  adjustments,  required  for  the  minute  differ- 
ences o    distance  which  we  can  easily  appreciate,  can 
differ  only  in  a  very  slight  degree.     Thi.  case  illustrates 
the  suggestjveness  of  muscular  sensations;   the  next 


Perception.  ,gg 

furnishes  an  example  of  ihcir  suggestibility.  Tl,e  tones 
of  tne  votce  are  pro.Iuced  l,y  n.oans  of  the  la,y„,"" 
".ur,c  es,  a,ded,  in  s,,eaking  and  s,„gi„g  at  leas,  b  '  e 
a«npl,catcd  muscular  a„pa,au,s  about  the  mouth    When 

r  ""^'^  ?"  ""=  "'■™'f<''''   dulations  of  the    oice 

even  m  orduwy  talk,  «.hen  we  consider  tha,  a  good 

mger  can  easily  produce  notes  that  diflcr  only  by  a  frac 
tion  of  a  tone,   we  can  scarcely  avoid  wonder  at    he 

efincment  of  muscular  perception  whicl,  renders  possible' 
Ihis  delicacy  of  adjust••^snt. 

II.  The  counterpart  of  this  perception  is  .hat  of  the 
reststance  which  the  muscular  effort  overcomes      Th 
ivrceptton  rmplies  the  association  of  muscular  sensation 

effort,  which  we  are  conscious  of  pulling  fonl,   ,,,,„,";' 

lat  world  accord  n^rlv  shaiw'«!  \\^,m  ;  . 

luiiifeiy  snapcs  Itself  in  our  consc  ousness 

ingible,  but  offer  resistance  to  our  efforts.      It  is  onlv 
.r  this  process  that  we  form  the  con,ple,e  .ot.on  of  body 

\ZT''a  \  ''"''''""'•  i"deed,  discover  that  which 
I  ndependent  of  my  will  :  for  I  cannot  choose  bu,  fed 
hem  when  exposed  to  the  conditions  of  their  on 
luction.  But  this  consciousness  of  a  thing  whic  s 
different  rom  me,  and  does  not  depend  for  it°s  existence 
on  my  volition,  becomes  obviously  most  distinct  with  the 

exertion.     Of  course,  we  do  not  require  to  obtain  first 
the  mcomplete  notion  of  the  material  world,  furnished 

''is   torM'T'  '"°''r  '"""  '^^  "'--'■-  P'^y'h't 
«  IS  a  world  of  resisting  bodies  ;  for  the  muscula  activity 

>s  mcessant  from  the  moment  of  birth.      It  is  fron      e 
ensibili.y  excned  by  this  incessant  activity  of  muscle 
hat  we  obtain  the  materials  to  build  up  our  conception 


190 


Psycholagy, 


of  the  world  as  a  vast  system  of  bodies  endowed  with 

force  to  resist  ourselves. 
It  is  in  its  mechanical  aspects  that  matter  is  thus 

made  known,  the^ .  aspects  being  so  many  forms  of  force 
rtsistmg  our  muscular  efforts.  It  is  the  function  of  physi- 
cal  science  to  investigate  these  forms  of  force,  with  the 
view  of  arranging  them  into  a  systematic  classification, 
and  ascertaining  precisely  the  laws  in  accordance  with 
which  they  act 


'I 


m 


Generalisaiioiu 


191 


CHAPTER  II. 


GENERALISATION. 


nPHIS  form  of  cognu.on  contrasts  with  percepffon 

It?  V  ^  ^"  "'"'"^  ^""^>'^^^  '"^o  three  stages  • 
Abstraction  Generalisation  proper,  or  Classification  and 
Denom.nat,on  There  is  a  convenience  in  adapting  ou, 
exposition  to  this  analysis.  udpung  our 

§  "^--Abstraction. 

The  nature  of  abstraction  may  be  explained  by  dwel 
Img  upon  two  facts  :— ^)  that  it  i.  y\l  ^ 

among  the  n.ul.iplici.y  of  phenomena.    Now,  aslman 
conscousness  .s  limited  in  its  power,  it  cannot  be  con" 
centraled  upon  one  phenomenon,  without  being  to  Z. 
e.  en,  wahdrawn  from  others.     This  «,///.^.w  co.    i 
tu.es  the  mental  act  of  .to>-../fo».»    The  act  of  ab'^ac- 

phenomenon  ..tended  ,„  i.  .„„.X  o'  «  '  "      °  ^^""«''  "" 

-' ""'  ^  ""ng/iWujwM;  while  iht 


m' 


192 


Psychology, 


r  '1 


ri; 


lion  is  therefore  one  form  of  tiie  general  limitation  of 
human  energy.      The  force  which  is  organised  in  the 
individual  is  essentially  limited  ;  and,  when  it  is  largely 
absorbed  in  one  form  of  activity,  cannot  be  at  disposnl 
for  others.      Thus  it  is  well  known  that  the  excessive 
expenditure  of  human  energy  in  intellectual  toil,  and  still 
more  in  emotional  excitement,  is  apt  to  interrupt  vital 
actions,  like  digestion,  at  the  time,  and,  if  prolonged,  to 
issue  in  chronic  dyspepsia.     Now,  an  act  of  attention  on 
the  part  of  any  individual   implies  a  discharge  of  his 
energy  mainly  in  the  direction  in  which  consciousness  is 
concentrated;  and  it  is  therefore  often  accompanied  by 
that  "inhibitory  action/'  as  it  is  termed,*  by  which  the 
functions  of  various  bodily  organs  are  apt  to  be  inter- 
rupted.     A  man  frequently  finds  himself  thus  arrested 
in  the  midst  of  any  act  in  which  he  is  engaged ;  he  may 
be  brought  to  a  stand-still,  while  walking  in  a  crowded 
thoroughfare,  and  remain  absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts, 
oblivious  of  the  stream  of  passengers  jostling  against  him 
.  in  his  awkward  position.    Even  a  large  assembly  of  men, 
when  their  attention  is  rapt  by  an  entrancing  outburst  of 
oratory,  are  at  times  checked  in  such  an  essential  act  of 
vitality  as  breathing,  as  may  be  evinced  by  the  long  sigh 
that  is  drawn  at  any  pause.      It  will  be  seen  therefore, 
that   the  state  which   is  popularly  described  as  absent- 
mindedness,  is  essentially  identical  with,  abstraction.      A 
person  in  this  state  is  absent  mentally,  that  is,  has  his 


minrl  is  said  to  be  abstracted  from  others.  The  notion  of  a 
prescinded  phenomenon  is  what  we  mean  by  an  abstra<t  notion, 
while  the  notion  of  the  same  phenomenon  in  its  actual  ccmnections 
with  other  phenomena  is  concrete.  See  Hamilton's  Lectures  on 
Metaphysics,  Vol.  ii.,  p.  29-,  with  notes. 

•  Ferrier's  Functions  of  the  Brain,  pp.  70-1  (and  ed.)    Compare 
also  pp.  460-8, 


Generalisation.  ,pj 

body;  but  ,h,s  arises  from  the  fact  that  he  is  presen 

thfr  L~'  n'  '''  ''"^•"'■™  ''  ™S"-^d,-wi,h's„rj 
ihmg  dse.  Consequently,  the  stories  of  absemminded- 
ness  wh,ch  are  n.et  with  in  anecdoHcal  biographies,  n,ay 

I'S^iir '''"''■^^  °'  '"^  '"^"'^'  '^^— "  --^e: 

essln,i!l"'  '\''  ""u"""''  ™P°"'"' '°  °''^"^«-  'hat  ,n  iis 
e  sential  nature  abstraction  is  an  act  of  thought,  tha,  is 

of  compartson.      It  is,  in  fac,  simply  ,hat  discrimina! 

t.on-,hat   separation  m  ,hought,-which  begins   and 

faltithTr  ,K'""'r  "''  ''''''"'''■  "<«  °"'y  identi- 
cal w,th  each  other;  they  are  identical  with  the  process 

of  cognition  itself.     The  fact  signdised  in  these  expres! 

wh^h"  ''"'"l  'i"  '"^^^^'fi^^'io"  °f  a  certain  element 
which  ,s  implied  more  or  less  in  all    knowledge,   but 

of  the  knowledge  that  is  distinctively  called  science.   The 
presence  of  this  element  will    be  realised,   when  it  is 
borne  m  mind  that,  although  for  the  necessities  of  scien- 
ific  abstraction  we  discriminate  cognition  and  feeling 
and  will,  yet  such  abstraction  does  not  represent  the 
oncrete  facts  of  mental  life.      Now,  attention  implies 
that  the  consciousness  is  strained  in  a  particular  direc- 
tion   by  some   involuntary  impulse  or  by  a  voluntary 
effort.    The  involuntary  impulse  may  be  either  sensation.il 
or  emotional.     The  attention  may  be  absorbed  in  a  sen- 
sation of  excessive  pleasure  or  excessive  pain  ;  i,  may  be 
rivetted  on  an  object  of  .ome  irresistible  emotion,  such 
as  a  passionate  fondness  or  a  paralysing  fear.      But  the 
crowning  triumphs  of  intellectual  concentration  are  to  be 
found  in  those  efforts  of  voluntary  attention  or  abslrac 
tion,  by  which  the  cultivated  mind  girds  itself  for  the  un- 

N 


i 


194 


Psychology. 


-I 


impeded  pursuit  of  truth.   Tiie  necessity  of  such  concen- 
tration  in  all  forms  of  culture  points  to  the  dependence 
of  intellectual  greatness  on  a  certain  kind  of  moral  great- 
ness,— on  the  power  of  will  "  to  scorn  delights,  and  live 
laborious  days,"  in  order  to  the  attainment  of  a  philos- 
ophic or  artistic  ideal.     For  practical  wisdom,  therefore, 
as  well  as  for  insight  into  the  theory  of  abstraction,  the 
student  may  read  with  profit  the  interesting  citations, 
which  Sir  W.  Hamilton  has  collected,  from  the  testimony 
of  great  men,  who  have  ascribed  any  intellectual  eminence 
they  have  attained  to  their  superior  power  of  attention.* 
Abstraction  then  may  be  said  to  be  an  artificial  act  of 
thought,  in  so  far  as  it  separates  what  are  conjoined  in 
nature.     We  never  find,  and  cannot  even  imagine,  one 
object  or  one  aspect  of  an  object,  existing  apart  from  all 
others.    On  the  contrary,  every  object  holds  some  relation 
to  other  objects,  and   the  various  parts  or  the  various 
qualities  of  an  object  appear  in  our  consciousness  as  if 
they  had  grown  together,  that  is,  had  become  concrete. 
But  while  abstraction  breaks  up  this  natural  concretion 
of  the  parts  and  qualities  of  things,  it  is  not  to  be  sup- 
posed that  the  act  is  unnatural.     It  is  rather  a  necessary 
movement  of  intelligence ;  for  to  have  intelligence  of  any 
object  is  to  think  it  i.s  marked  by  this  o?  that  quality,  as 
made  up  of  this  and  that  part.   We  can  therefore  compre- 
hend the  complex  phenomena  of  nature  only  by  breaking 
them  up  into  parts  and  qualities.    Thus,  when  a  plant  or 
an  animal  is  submitted  for  examination,  if  we  would  make 
our  knowledge  of  it  exact  and  complete,  we  must  study 
apart  the  different  organs  of  which  it  is  formed,  or  the 
qualities,  such  as  colour  and  figure,  which  constitute  its 
different  aspects.    The  relations  also,  in  which  one  object 


•  Lectures  on  Metaphysics,  Vol.  L,  pp.  255-261. 


Generalisation,  |gc 

stands  to  another,  may  be  separately  considered ;  we  may 
investigate  their  relations  in  space  or  their  relations  in 
time,  their  resemblances  or  their  points  of  contrast,  or 
heir  adaptability  to  various  ends.     Thus  any  of  the  mul- 
titudinous  facts   in  the  confusing  complication  of  the 
phenomena  presented  in  consciousness  may  be  made  an 
object  of  abstract  attention,  and  the  entire  complication 
may  be  completely  evolved  into  distinct  cognition     The 
very  organisation  of  a  human  being  adapts  him  for  this 
decomposition  of  a  complex  phenomenon,  inasmuch  as 
nianyofitsfactors,-its  sensible  qualities  at  least,~are 
made  known  to  him  through  separate  organs 

To  guard  against  misapprehension,  it  only  remains  to 
add  that  an  abstract  notion,  as  such,  is  not  yet  necessarily 
general.     I  may  attend  exclusively  to  some  aspect  of  an 
individual ;  and  so  far  I  form  an  abstract  notion  that  is 
smgular.     This  observation  may  be  useful  owing  to  the 
fact,  that  the  terms,  general  and  abstract,  are  often  used 
convertibly   in   popular  language,   and   even    by  some 
psychological  writers  who  have  been  influenced  by  the 
usage  of  Locke.     The  reason  of  this  confusion  will  im- 
mediately  appear. 

S  *• — Generalisation  Proper, 

The  fact  is,  that  in  the  natural  evolution  of  conscious- 
ness the  abstract  notion  never  rests  at  the  stage  of 
singularity.  This  must  be  evident  from  the  nature  of 
the  process  of  perception,  which  was  described  at  the 
beginning  of  the  previous  chapter.  It  was  there  shown 
that  even  m  perceiving  the  individual  we  assign  it  to  its 
class,  that  IS,  we  identify  one  or  more  of  its  qualities 
with  one  or  more  of  the  qualities  of  other  individuals 
There  is  net.  therefore,  the  radical  distinction,  which  the 


196 


Psychology, 


U      I' 


l!  •{; 


•-     i    i!^ 


r 


old  psychologists  supposed,  between  the  perception  of  an 
individual  and  the  conception  of  a  class.  As  we  proceed, 
they  will  appear  rather  intellectual  acts  of  the  same  com- 
plex nature,  with  the  general  element  subordinated  in 
one  case,  and  brought  into  prominence  in  the  other.  In 
fact,  it  may  sometimes  happen  to  be  doubtful,  whether 
our  consciousness  should  be  described  as  individual  or 
as  general  in  its  reference.  Suppose,  for  example,  the 
word  apple  is  spoken.  That  word  will  bring  up  an  image, 
more  or  less  vague,  of  the  object  it  is  used  to  denote. 
But  this  image  may  be  thought  as  representative  of  all 
similar  objects,  or  merely  as  representative  of  some  par- 
ticular apple  that  I  saw  or  ate  to-da;.  In  the  former 
case,  my  consciousness  is  to  be  regarded  as  the  concept 
of  a  class  ;  in  the  latter,  as  the  imagination  only  of  an 
individual. 

It  appears,  therefore,  that  in  all  cognition  there  is  a 
•  general  factor,  which  receives  prominence  in  the  cognition 
of  a  class,  but   retires  into  a  subordinate  place  in  the 
cognition  of  an  individual.      This  factor  is  that  which, 
when  disconnected   from   the  rest,  is  spoken  of  as  an 
abstract  notion.     An  abstract  notion,  as  we  have  seen 
in  the  previous  section  of  this  chapter,  is  a  consciousness 
of  some  quality  or  aspect  of  an  object  considered  without 
reference   to    others.       When   a   quality,    of  which   an 
abstract  notion  might  be  formed,  is  cognised  in  actual 
connection  with  a  certain  set  of  other  phenomena,  the 
cognition  is  a  perception  ;  the  notion  of  the  quality  loses 
its  abstractness,   it    becomes  concreted  with   the  other 
phenomena.     The  notion  of  a  quality  loses  its  abstract- 
ness also  when  it  becomes  general  ;  but  in  this  case  it 
is  conceived  as  in  possible  connection  with   numerous 
sets  of  phenomena.      Thus  the  cognition  expressed  in 
"  I  perceive  this  quadruped  "  implies  the  connection  of 


Generalisation. 


197 


fourfootedness  with  an   individual  set  of  phenomena ; 
wh.le  the  cognition,  "  I  conceive  a  quadruped,"  implies 
the  connection  of  the  same  quality,  not  with  any  definite 
set  of  actual  phenomena,  but  with  an  indefinite  number 
of  possible  phenomena.      In  other  words,  the  notion  of 
a  qualify,  which  in  itself  is  an  abstract  notion,  becomes 
general  when  it   is  thought  as  applying  to  various  in- 
dividuals,  as  it  is  singular  when  it  applies  only  to  one. 
^    The  evolution  of  general  notions  has  formed  the  sub- 
ject of  a  controversy  known  in  former  times  as  the  ques- 
tion of  the  Primum  Cognitum.^     The  controversy  deals 
with  the  problem,  whether  our  knowledge,  and  therefore 
our   language,  begins  with  classes  or  with  individuals 
Two   antagonistic  theories  most  readily  suggest  them- 
selves to  the  mind,-one  holding  that  knowledge  starts 
from    individual    objects,   and   ascends   from    these   to 
classes,  another  that  the  evolution  of  intelligence  i.  in 
the  reverse  way.      The  young  student  of  psychology  is 
apt  to  be  perplexed  at  first  by  the  array  of  facts  which 
each  of  these  rival  theories  is  capable  of  summoning  to 
Its  support.     We  are  now  in  a  position  to  see  *i»at  either 
theory  expresses  a  part,  but  only  a  part,  of  the  truth, 
and  that  there  is  a  point  of  larger  view  which  embraces 
the  partial  truth  of  both. 

I.  Our  analysis  of  perception,  in  its  various  complica- 
tions,  has  dispelled  the  popular  mistake,  which  still  in- 
fects much  of  onr  scientific  literature,  that  the  individual 
IS  a  ready-made  object,  presented   to  the  mind  by  an 


Of  this  controversy,  an  interesting  historical  and  critical  sketch 
IS  given  by  Sir  William  Hamilton  in  his  Lectures  on  Metaphysics, 
vol.  u.,  pp.  319-332.     Some  interesting  remarks  on  the  question 
from  a  philological  point  of  view,  will  be  found  in  Max  Muller'i 
Ledures  on  the  Science  of  Language  (First  Series^  np.  ^73-386 


1 98 


Psychology. 


Irr', 


k 


indecomposable  flash  of  intuition.  The  cognition,  by 
which  the  individual  is  revealed  to  consciousness,  might 
rather  be  compared  tc  a  many-coloured  light,  whose 
variously-tinted  rays  are  brought  by  the  mind  itself  to 
the  focus  of  distinct  vision.  In  other  words,  an 
individual  object  of  perception  is  the  result  of  an  in- 
tellectual process ;  and  the  process  is  one  that  continues 
with  every  definition  of  individuality,  with  every  exten- 
sion of  our  insight  into  the  attributes,  by  which  an  object 
is  differentiated  from  all  others.  It  is  evident,  therefore, 
that  our  knowledge  cannot  begin  with  individuals. 

2.  But  it  would  be  equally  incorrect  to  suppose,  that 
knowledge  starts  from  classes.  The  child,  indeed,  learns 
at  an  early  period  certain  broad  differences  between 
things ;  but  these  differences  remain  for  a  long  time  very 
broad,  and  it  is  only  after  a  considerable  evolution  of 
intelligence,  that  they  are  narrowed  down  to  definite 
characteristics,  and  conceived  as  belonging  in  common 
to  a  number  of  individuals  which  are  thus  constituted 
into  a  distinct  class. 

It  cannot,  therefore,  be  said  that  knowledge  begins 
with  what  is  definitely  general  any  more  than  with  what 
is  definitely  individual.       Since  neither  of  these  alterna- 
tives is  admissible,  there  is  but  one  conclusion  to  which 
we  are  shut  up :  knowledge  must  begin  with  something 
that  is  indefinite.     Now,  we  have  seen,  in  Book  I.,  that 
the  raw  materials  of  knowledge,  as  of  all  mental  life,  are 
sensations.      It  is  true,  these  cannot,  as  such,  be  called 
cognitions;  but  cognition  begins  with  the  definition  of 
sensations  in  consciousness,  that  is,  with  the  identifica- 
tion of  those  that  resemble,  and  the  discrimination  of 
those  that  differ.      Whenever  I  become  conscious,  how- 
ever vaguely,  that  a  sensation  experienced  now  differs 
from  other  sensations,  and  yet  resembles  some  sensations 


Generalisation.  |gg 

felt  before,  the  sensation  becomes  to  that  extent  defined 
that  IS,  definitely  known.  Every  hdvance  in  knowledge! 
moreover,  is  a  progress  towards  the  more  definite  dis- 
cnmmation  of  a  phenomenon  from  those  that  are  differem 
and  Its  more  definite  identification  with  those  which  iJ 
resembles.  This,  however,  is  rr.erely  another  way  of 
saymg  that  the  evolution  of  knowledge  is  in  the  direction 
at  once  of  more  definite  individualisation  and  generali- 
sation. ^ 

With  regard  to  the  Primum  Cognitum,  while  neither  of 
the  above-mentioned  rival  theories  can  be  maintained  in 
Its  exclusiveness,  it  is  not  to  be  overlooked  that  the  per- 
ception of  the  individual  is  an  easier  process  of  intelli- 
gence than  the  conception  of  a  class ;  and  therefore  it 
was  observed  above,  that  naturally  the  perception  of  the 
individual  comes  first  in  the  evolution  of  intelligence 
For,   although    the   individual   is  not   a  simple   object 
apprehended  by  an  indivisible  act  of  cognition,  yet  its 
complexity  is  based  mainly  on  the  natural  associations  of 
space  and  time;  the  individual  is  a  concretion  of  nature 
But  m  the  conception  of  a  class  the  mind  requires  to 
abstract  from  the  concretions  obtruded  on  it  by  nature 
and  to  form  a  combination  of  its  own  among  individuals 
that  are  related,  not  by  spatial  or  temporal  associations 
but  merely  by  resemblance.      It  is  for  this  reason,  that 
concrete  thinking  is  commonly  more  natural  than  that 
which  is  abstract  or  general ;  while  concrete  forms  of 
expression  are  most  readily  intelligible,  and  are  therefore 
always  to  be  preferred  in  addressing  children  or  un- 
tutored minds. 

Accordingly  it  is  not  incorrect  to  regard  generalisation 
as  a  measure  of  the  mastery  of  nature  by  human  intelli- 
gence.  It  is  true  that  even  the  perception  of  individuals 
IS  a  certain  mastery  of  intelligence  over  the  confusing 


200 


Psychology. 


variety  of  nature ;  it  is  also  true,  as  we  have  seen,  that 
perception   imi)Iies  a  certain  generalisation,   for  the   in- 
dividual  perceived  must  be  referred  to  its  class ;  and  it  is 
true  still    further,    that    every    ascent    in    generalisation 
extends  our  insi-ht    into  the   nature  of  individuals   hy 
unfolding  their  relations  to  one  another.     Still,  it  is  by 
knowing  the  unities  that  pervade  nature,  rather  than  by 
acquaintance  with  a  multitude  of  individuals,  that  nature 
becomes  intelligible.     Particulars,  even  when  cognised  as 
nidividual  objects,  are  so  multitudinous  and  so  various,  as 
to  be  hopelessly  peri)lexing  to  the  limited  understanding 
of  man  until  they  are  reduced  to  some  kind  of  compre- 
hensible unity  by  classification.    The  grouping,  therefore, 
of  any  number  of  individuals  into  a  class  by  the  recog- 
nition of  some  feature  common   to  them  all  is  man's 
in{:ellectual    conquest    of   their   perplexing   multii)licity. 
'I'he  whole  class  of  objects  can  then  be  treated  as  a  single 
object  of  thought ;  and,  by  the  discovery  of  a  resemblance 
between  it  and  .ther  classes,  we  may  ascend  to  a  higher 
genus  which  embraces  ihem  all.     This  process,  which  is 
the  process  of  science,  may  be  carried  on  till  we  reach 
some  supreme  generalisation,  in  which  all  the  subordinate 
classes  shall  find  their  appropriate  place. 

At  low  stages  of  culture,  as  might  be  expected,  this 
process  has  advanced  but  a  short  way.  It  appears  from 
the  languages  of  many  savage  tribes,  that  they  have  not 
reached  the  higher  classifications  that  are  familiar  among 
civilised  men,  though  they  often  possess  a  luxuriant 
growth  of  expressions  for  the  lower  species.  In  some 
Australian  languages,  for  example,  there  are  no  generic 
names  for  tree,  fish,  or  bird,  but  only  specific  names  for 
the  different  kinds  of  each.  The  l^^nguages  of  the 
uncivilised  races  are  said  to  be  also  extremely  deficient 
in   abstract   terms.      Of  a  piece  with   this  is  the  ex- 


IW  i 


Generalisation.  jg, 

tremely    limited     capaci.y    of    savages    in    resard    ,o 
number,     the   limit   i„    „„„y  ,,J  ^  ^  8^^     ° 

the  fi^o  fingers  of  one  hand,  or  at  most  the  L  'l^Tli 

But  the  truth  of  all  this  must  be  understood  as  by  no 
means  .mplymg  that  the  savage  has  reached  deffn"e 

s  te'TT  "^'"^  """'"^  ''^'"■""^  generalisation! 
time,  !»  '  ^  <^7P"--«ively  uncultured  mind  some- 

•  hi^  is    r?  '  ^r^^""'  -^^""i'^""^  of  individualisa.i.n. 
1  h  s  ,s  llustrated  m  the  familiar  fact,  that  a  peasant  will 
d.stmgu,sh  from  one  another  his  sheep  and  c  t.le  whlh 
seem  to  many  a  cultured  mind  destitute  of  any  ind  v"d^^ 
d./Terences     But  .his  arises  from  the  circumsLce  of  the 
rust,c  mtellect  bemg  largely  expended  on  th,  observat  on 
of  such  mdmdual  differences;  and  i,  is  important"" 
bear  ,„  „    j.  that  the  marks,  by  which  to  such  an  i  ,  1 
lectone  object  ,s  distinguished  from  another,  are  often 
of  that  ms,gn,ficant  character  which  is  due  to  an  acci- 
dental  association  in  time  or  place ;  they  are  not  .hose 
essential  attributes  of  an  object,  upon  which  thescieminc 
nteilect  would  fix  in  forming  its  discriminations       A 
th.3  stage  therefore,  the  mind  is  still  in  bondage  to  the 
combinations  of  nature;  it  is  only  when  the  mind  assert 
us  own  free  activity,  that  it  learns  to  recognise  individual 
dififerences  which  depend  on  general  laws,  and  not  on 
casual  associations.      The  progress  of  knowledge  -the 

tTuirbT  TT'i  ''■'""'"  i""="i«ence,-may  therefore 
truly  be  said  to  be  indicated  by  both  individualisation 
and  generalisation  alike. 


pli^T  "'"f  """=  °f  "•««  "alemenu  will  be  f„„„d  in  Tylor', 
^"''""-' CuUur..  Chap.  vii.  ;  Lubbock's  P,Mu,ric  TiJ'' 


li 


i       i 


iH:t 


203  Psychology, 

8  3* — Denomination, 

The  process  of  generalisation   is  incomplete  till  the 
class,   which  has  been   formed   by  thought,   receives  a 
name.      Now,  since  nature   becomes  intelli.nible  only  in 
proportion  as  its  manifold  phenomena  are-  grouped  into 
classes,  it  is  evident  that  intelligence  implies  the  forma- 
tion of  general  terms.      Consequently  general  terms  are 
found  in  all  languages,  being  in  fact  essential  to  the  very 
possibility  of  human  speech ;  and  their  origm,  like  that 
of  language,  dates  of  course  from  prehistoric  limes.    The 
function  of  such  terms  in  human  though:  must  therefore 
be  explained  in  order  to  the  complete  exposition  of  the 
process  of  generalisation. 

But  this  function  has  formed  the  subject  of  an  impor- 
tant controversy,  which  is  not  yet  alto<:ether  settled.    The 
history  of  this  controversy  might,  indeed,  be  regarded  in 
some  measure  as  the  history  of  philosophy  itself;  and 
consequently  it  wou'd  be  out  of  place  to  attempt  even  a 
sketch  of  it  here.      It  is  especially  unnecessary  to  enter 
upon  any  account  of  mediaeval  Realism,  which  involves 
a  problem  in  ontology  rather  than  in  psychology.     We 
may,  therefore,  confine  our  attention  to  the  more  modern 
controversy   between    Ccnceptualism    and   Nominalism, 
which  does  possess  a  psychological  interest.      The  two 
rival  theories  may  be  briefly  described  as  holding,— the 
former  that  we  can,  the  latter  that  we  cannot,  frame  some 
idea  corresponding  ir  general-ty  to  any  class  of  things 
that  we  name.    To  acnrefu]  reHection  it  must  be  evident 
that,  even  if  the  whole  controversy  cannot  be  set  aside 
as  a  mere  dispute  about  words,  yet  it  is  in  a  large  measure 
stripped  of  any  meaning  when  the  terms  involved  are  ac- 
curately  employed.      For 

I.  On  the  one  hand,  it  must  evidently  be  conceded  to 


Gtneralisation. 


«03 

the  Con«p.„aI!«,  that  thought  ha,  .  ctnam  generality 

o.  reference,  however  that  „,ay  be  explained.      We  can 

hmk  judge,  reason  about  classes  of  th  n«s.-abourn,en 

annnals,  vegetables,  triangles,  circles,  and  so  forth™h 

he  clear  consciousness  that  our  thought.,,   jud.^en^ 

Class      On  any  other  supposition  science,  and  ordinary 
thmkmg  ..self,  would  be  impossible  ;  and  the  h~ 

rdrr;;^"^™^"'''-°-'''-^. "----: 

con^deVt^'^K^M'"'''  "  """"  "'"^  ^''"'''  -"'^!"'y  be 
conceded   to  the  Nom.nalist.   that  „e  cannot  form  a 

mental  image  of  a  clas^  fhaf  .e   „     • 

ihe    rnnf.    V  I  '  '  ^"  "^''»Se  Combining  all 

the    contradictory    attributes    by    whirh    tN«     «  rr 

n^intain   this,   thtr;  le'.r T  ^c^^  /^ 

0. .  uoes  It  not  require  some  pains  and  skill 

th™  osl  ITr'  '"-'  "'  '  "-^'^  ("^^^  -  yet  nt 
01  the  most  abstract,  comprehensive,  or  difficult)  •  for  it 

n>ust  be  ne,ther  oblique,  nor  rectangi;  neither  equih.eru 

e.";.'.  an  ;h       •  ''  ".^'"»«Wng  ""perfect  that  cannot 
e-N.-t     an  idea,  wherem  some  parts  of  several  differen 
•ind  inconsistent  ideas  are  put  together"    tL T 
unfairly  been  regarded  as  a  l^^^Z^.^^^  '"  "" 

it  rt"rr?o"a",!  '•  f":  "l""^"  ""'"'  '°  "  '='-^'  -  -"- 
refers  to  an  individual,  the  mental  ima-e  before  our 

conscusness  is  that  of  an  actual  or  possibi:  indtid:;,: 


♦Bookiv.,  Chap,  vii.,39. 


0: 


m 


%h 


204 


Psychology, 


w  < 


1^^ 


w » ' 


or,  If  the  process  of  thought  is  prolonged,  there  may  be 
a  series  of  changing  images  representing  many  distinct 
varieties  in  the  class.     If  the  mental  image  before  our 
consciousness   were   taken    to   represent   merely  an  in- 
dividual, then  its  individual  peculiarities  would  form  the 
chief  object  of  attention ;   but   these   peculiarities  are 
abstracted  from  as  much  as  possible,  when  the  image  is 
made  to  represent  a  whole  class.     In  accordance  with  the 
principles  explained  in  the  first  section  of  th's  chapter 
the  attention  is  then  concentrated  on  the  general  features 
of  the   individual    imaged,-on    those   features   which 
that  individual  possesses  in  common  with  other  individuals 
of  the  class.     Accordingly,  we  know  that  our  reasonin-s 
hold  good  with  regard  to  that  individual  simply  because 
/t  possesses  the  features  of  the  whole  class,  and  therefore 
that  they  hold  good  also  of  all  individuals  possessing  the 
same  general  features.     The  function  of  the  mental  image 
implied  in  all  general  reasonings  is  precisely  analogous 
to  that  of  the  diagram  commonly  used  in  geometrical 
demonstrations.      The  diagram  must  be  a  single  figure 
with  something  to  distinguish  it  from  all  others.     If  of  a 
triangle,  for  example,  it  must  be  large  or  small,  equilateral 
isosceles,   or    scalene,    right-angled,    obtuse-angled     or 
acute-angled,  and  it  must  be  made  of  some  particular 
sort  of  stuff.     But  in  a  demonstration  we  can  think  of  it 
as  a  triangle  without  reference  to  any  of  its  individual 
peculiarities  ;  and  we  can  therefore  feel  assured  that  our 
demonstration  applies  equally  to  any  other  triangle  as 
such. 

We  are  now  in  a  position  to  explain  more  definitely 
the  part  which  general  terms  play  in  the  process  of 
generalisation.  That  part  is  twofold.  The  general  term 
assists  us  m  keeping  before  the  mind  the  class-properties 
of  individuals  to  the  exclusion  of  their  distinctive  pecu- 


Generalisation.  205 

liarities;  and  it  enables  us  also  to  retain  a  classification. 
once  formed,  as  a  permanent  possession  of  the  mind. 

I.  The  general  name  is  usually  given  to  a  number  of 
objects,  because  it  is  significant  of  some  property  which 
they  all  possess ;  and,  consequently,  it  is  calculated  to 
suggest  that   property  alone  to  the  mind.     A  general 
name,  therefore,  becomes  a  sort  of  symbol  for  all  objects 
possessing   the   property    which    it    signifies;    and    our 
general  reasonings  accordingly  approach,  if  they  do  not 
actually  attain,  the  nature  of  symbolical  reasoning     I'he 
reasoning  that  is  called  symbolical   is  typified   in   the 
sciences  of  arithmetic  and  algebra.      In  arithmetic,  by 
means  of  symbols,  we  carry  on  reasonings  about  abstract 
numbers,  that  is,  about  numbers  without  reference  to  the 
things  that  are  numbered ;  while  in  algebra,  by  a  similar 
instrumentality,  we   can   reason   about  number  in  the 
abstract   without  reference  to  any  particular  numbers. 
Our  general  reasonings  may  never  reach  this  absolutely 
symbolical  character;  but  general   terms  enable  us  to 
dispense  with  the  continued  reference  in  consciousness 
to  the  actual  individuals  they  signify,  in  the  same  way,  if 
not   m    the   same   degree,  as   arithmetical    figures   and 
algebraical  signs  form  an  instrument  for  working  out 
numerical  calculations  that  are  quite  independent  In  the 
peculiar  nature  of  the  things  that  may  be  numbered. 

2.  But  there  is  another  function  for  general  terms. 
We  have  analysed  the  process  by  which  the  cognition  .  f 
a  class  is  formed;  but  after  the  class  is  thus  cognised 
how  is  it  to  be  /-^cognised  ?  The  individual,  as  a  natural 
combination,  is  perpetually  presented  in  the  course  of 
nature,  and  requires,  therefore,  no  other  means  of  re- 
cognition, though  the  recognition  even  of  the  individual 
is  facilitated  by  the  expedient  of  proper  names.  But  the 
class  has  no  natural  existence  like  that  of  the  individual 


206 


i: 


Psychology. 


m 


I. 


^f     '' 


and  therefore  is  not  obtruded  on  consciousness  again 
nnd  agam  in  the  mere  order  of  natural  events.      Ho>v 
then,  does  it  become  a  permanent  acquisition  for  the 
mmd?     By  means  of  general  terms.     The  general  term 
we  have  seen,  is  significant  of  the  common  property  be- 
ongmg  to  a  number  of  individuals,  and  preserves  for  us 
therefore,    the   fact   that   these   individuals    have   been 
grouped  into  one  class  on  the  ground  of  their  all  pos- 
sess.ng  that  common  property.      The  process  of  classifi- 
cation  has  often  been  compared  to  the  action  of  the 
merchant  who  counts  a  confused  heap  of  coins  by  group- 
ing them  m  piles  of  a  definite  number.    The  comparison 
might  be  extended  by  observing  that,  as  the  continuance 
of  the  piles  implies  the  law  of  gravitation,  without  which 
they  would  all  be  scattered  as  soon  as  formed,  so  the 
permanent    classification    of    phenomena    implies    the 
faculty  of  naming,  else  the  phenomena  would  return  to 
their  uncomprehended  multiplicity,  as  soon  as  they  were 
arranged  into  classes. 

wnnM^'h   ^''"  questioned,  whether  any  generalisation 
would   be   possible   without   the   assistance   of  general 
names.      The  question  is  perhaps  futile,  as  all  normal 
human  intelligence  is  developed  by  me.ns  of  language 
and  we  have  no  opportunity  of  knowing  what  might  be 
possible  to  a  being,  could  such  be  conceived,  who  was 
endowed  with  a  norn.al  human  mind,  and  yet  incapable 
of  language,-of  any  system  of  signs.     But  the  close  de- 
pendence of  generalisation  on  the  faculty  of  speech  is 
indicated  by  the  fact,  that  deaf  mutes  find  a  difficultv  in 
abstracting,  and  therefore  in  grasping  the  signification  of 
common  nouns.* 


^^^^^^^::r^/^:^:^r:^ 


Generalisation.  207 

This  analysis  shows  that  our  general  reasonings  are 
exposed  to  a  two-fold  danger,-one  arising  from  their 
symbolical  nature,  the  other  from  the  fact  that  the  men- 
tal imnge  which  represents  a  class  is  necessarily  the  image 
of  an  mdividual.  ^ 

I.  The  fact,  that  general  terms  become  to  our  thought 
symbols  of  a  whole  class  of  objects,  implies  that  the 
nieanmg  they  suggest  cannot  be  perpetually  corrected  by 
exammmg  all  the  individuals  of  the  class.     Now,  however 
closely  such  a  term  may  be  defined,  it  remains  capable 
of  suggestmg  more  or  other  meanings  than  that  to  which 
•t  IS  limited  by  definition;  and  though  we  may  set  out 
with  the  defined  signification,  this  is  apt  to  be  lost  si-ht 
of  m  the  course  of  a  long  process  of  reasoning.     This 
danger  is  to  a  considerable  extent  avoided  by  the  coinage 
of  a  purely  scientific  nomenclature  ;  but  in  many  depart- 
ments of  thought,  especially  in  the  mental  and  moral  and 
political  sciences,  we  are  still  largely  exposed  to  all  the 
vague  and  vacillating  suggestions  of  ordinary  lanc^un^-e 
In  the  history  of  psychology  an  interesting  chapter  mi-^ht 
be  written  on  the  influence  which  has  been  exerted'by 
the  figurative  implications  of  such  terms  as  impression, 
attection,  representation,  image,  idea. 

2.  In  general  reasonings  the  image  of  an  individual 
stands  before  the  consciousness  as  a  sort  of  mental 
diagram  to  represent  its  class.  We  may  begin  a  process 
of  reasoning  with  the  exclusion  of  ail  features  of  the  indi- 
vidual image  except  those  which  are  common  to  the 
class ;  yet  in  course  of  the  process  we  often   find  the 


Bn^gman,  p.  i6.  Laura  Bridgman  herself  used  genera)  adjectives 
at  first  as  proper  names,  that  is,  as  names  of  the  individual  objects 
to  which  they  were  applied  (7^;./.,  p.  40).  Compare  Tyler's  Iniro- 
ducttm  to  Anthropology^^,  \i(j,  ^  1 


m. 


V 

It, 

m 


208 


!;;• 


:»■, 


Psychology, 


imagination  lording  it  over  thought,  and  are  pulled  up 
by  some  opponent  objecting  another  individual  or  other 
individuals,  to  which  our  reasonings  do  not  apply.     This 
is  a  vice  which  perpetually  besets  the  scientific  inquirer, 
who  IS  not  on  his  guard  against  the  temptation  to  leap  at 
conclusions  after  an  inadequate  induction  of  particular 
facts.     It  is  in  all  minds  the  source  of  much  of  the  power 
which  custom  wields  over  our  thoughts,  leading  us  to 
ascribe  the  characteristics  of  the  objects  with  which  we 
are  familiar  to  all  objects  of  the  same  class,  however 
different  their  circumstances  may  be.     This  tendency  is, 
therefore,  the  peculiar  defect  of  what  we  might,  in  the 
largest  sense,  call  the  untravelled  mind. 


I 


i'^' 

[i^!i  i 

IV 

*i    '. 

< 

!■'  i 

.... 

n 

Reasoning, 


209 


CHAPTER  IIL 


REASONING. 

"P  EASONING  is  often  described  as  the  procedure  of 
-L  V     consciousness  from  individuals  to  the  class  which 
they  form  (Induction),  or  from  a  class  to  an  individual  or 
individuals  that  it  includes  (Deduction).    It  is,  therefore 
rather  ^process,  more  or  less  lengthj ,  by  which  an  object 
IS  comprehended,  than  an  act  of  immediate  intuition,  by 
which  an  object  is  apprehended.     It  follows  from  this 
that  reasoning  cannot  always  be  precisely  distinguished 
either  from  perception  or  from  generalisation,  just  as  these 
cannot   be   precisely   distinguished   from   one   another 
Every  perception,  as  implying  a  cognition  of  the  class- 
attributes  of  the  object  perceived,  involves  a  reasoning 
commonly  of  the  deductive  sort ;  while  generalisation  is 
obviously  the  result  of  some  mode  of  inductive  reasoning 
however  vague.      But  in  the  mental  phenomena,  which 
we  commonly  speak  of  as  perceptions  and  generalisations 
the  reasoning  process  becomes  unconscious,  being  absorbed 
in  its  products.    It  may  therefore  be  studied  to  more  ad- 
vantage in  those  conscious  efforts  of  intelligence  to  which 
the  name  of  reasoning  is,  in  a  stricter  sense,  confined 
But  it  must  not  be  supposed  that,  in  actual  mental  life* 
conscious   and    unconscious    reasonings  can    be  always 
distinguished  with  exactness.    In  the  daily  coiisciousness 


210 


Hi* 


Ml 


11   :; 


i  '<  ! 


m 


If' 


i;: 


I 


Psychology. 


of  every  man  there  are  numerous  acts  which  it  would  be 
difhcult  to  refer  exclusively  to  either  class 

In  analysing  the  process  of  reasoning,  it  is  important 
to  keep  :n  v.ew  the  distinction  between  the  psychology 
of  the    reasoning    process   and   the    science   of  logic 
Psychology,  as  the  science  of  mental  facts,  details  the 
steps  which  reasoning  follows  in  actual  life  with  all  its 
comic   and   tragic  inaccuracies.      Logic,   on  the   other 
hand  belongs  to  that  class  of  sciences  which,  as  dealing 
with  laws  that  must  be  observed  in  order  to  the  attain! 
nient  of  a  certain  end,  have  been  appropriately  styled  by 
the  general   title  of  nomology.      Every  sphere  of  our 
mental  life,  in  fact,  may  have  a  nomology  of  its  own 
according  to  the  end  which  it  is  designed  to  subserve. 
Thus  we  point  an  end    to  our   sensitive  life  in   such 
studies  as  those  of  gastronomy,  perfumery,  music,  the 
theory  of  colours .:  while  the  higher  activities  find  their 
norm  in  mechanics,  aesthetics,  ethics,  politics.      In  the 
same  way,  then,  as  the  psychology  of  the  moral  life  is 
distinguished  from  ethics,  or  the  psychology  of  calculation 
from  arithmetic,  the  psychology  of  reasoning  ought  to  be 
kept  apart  from  logic* 

Actual,  as  distinguished  from  logical,  reasoning  is 
manifold.  It  commences,  perhaps,  with  the  movement 
from  particulars  to  particulars,  if  this  be  not  mere 
unreflective  association,  and  then  developes  into  the 
reflective,  or  at  least  more  reflective,  movements  from 
the  particular  to  the  general,  from  the  general  to  the 


Sometimes,  it  may  be  further  observed,  psychology,  and  Wio 
also    are  confounded    with    phiIo.so,,hy,   as  in   the  discussion   by 
psychologists  and  logicians  of  the  question  regarding  "the  ultimate 
postulate,"  "the  fundamental  axiom,'"  which,  in  the  last  analysis 
Jurms  the  criterion  or  warrant  of  all  thinking,  of  all  science 


Reasoning, 


211 


particular.  To  determine  the  warrant  for  such  in- 
ferences,  is  the  function  of  logic;  but  the  theory  of 
the  fallacies,  which  always  forms  a  prominent  part  of 
that  science,  shows  how  the  actual  movements  of  thought 
are  often  regardless  of  logical  warrant. 

There  are  three  factors  of  the  reasoning  process,  which 
have  been  usually  distinguished  by  psychologists  and 
logicians.  The  first  is  the  object  reasoned  about ;  the 
second,  the  predication,  to  which  the  reasoning  process 
leads,  in  reference  to  that  object;  the  third,  the  process 
Itself,  by  which  the  predication  is  established.  We  shall 
take  these  factors  in  separate  sections. 


§  I. — Conception. 

The  mental  act,   by  which  an  object  of  thought  is 
formed,  was  commonly  named,  in  the  old  logical  text- 
books, simple  apprehension;  but  by  many  logicians  it  is 
more  appropriately  called  conception.     'J'he  word  concep- 
^\on,\\Vt comprehension,  signifies  literally ^/-^^////^r/^^^//^^^^ 
and  is  therefore  an  appropriate  name  for  any  kind  of 
knowledge  which  is  obtained  by  gathering  many  into  one. 
Such  an  act  of  knowledge  may  be  accomplished  either  by 
mentally  grouping  into  one  class  a  number  of  different 
individuals   on    the   ground    of  their    possessing   some 
common    property   or   propeities,    or   bv   associating    a 
number  of  different  properties  on  the  ground  of  their 
belonging  in  common  to  the  same  individual  or  the  same- 
class. 

The  ol  ject  of  consciousness  in  a  conception,— that 
which  is  conceived,-is  called,  in  the  technical  language 
of  logic,  a  concept;  and  the  word  or  combination  of 
words,  expressing  a  concept,  is  called  a  term. 

From  this  it  <i\\  be  seen  that  a  term,  as  expressing  a 


212 


Psychology, 


W:\\ 


\A\ 


concept,  may  be  viewed  in  various  aspects.     For  a  con- 
ce,..  as  just  explained,  is  either  a  combination  of  indi- 
viduals for.nin,  a  class,  or  a  combination  of  properties 
belongmg  to  an  mdividual  or  to  a  class.      The  former 
combmation  constitutes  what  is  called  the  extension  of  a 
concept  or  of  the  term  expressing  it;  the  latter  combina- 
tion IS  called  intension.     Consequently  a  term  may  be 
and  ,n  thought  actually  is  at  different  times,  interpreted 
in  reference  to  both  of  these  aspects.      Thus  the  term 
man,  to  different  minds,  or  even  to  the  same  mind  at 
different  times,  may  mean  either  the  individuals  who 
compose  the  human  race,  or  the  attributes  that  constitute 
numan  nature.      It  has  also   been   made   a   subject  of 
discussion,   whether  terms  are  the  names  of  things    or 
merely  of  our  ideas  of  things.*  ' 

In  all  such  discussions  confusion  is  apt  to  arise  from 
failure  to  distinguish  the  logical  and  the  psychological  as- 
pects of  the  question  at  issue.    The  logician,  dealing  with 
the  aws  which  must  be  observed  for  the  sake  of  accurate 
thinking,  may  select  one  aspect  of  terms  as  that  which  is 
most  suitable  for  the  end  he  has  in  view.     But  his  selec 
tion  does  not  foreclose  the  cognate  psychological  ques- 
tion :  ,t  does  not  imply  that  the  aspect  selected  is  the 
only  possible  aspect  in  which  terms  may  be  interpreted 
or  even  that  it  is  the  most  common  interpretation  out 
upon  terms  in  the  confused  and  blundering  thoughts  that 
make  up  the  daily  mental  life  of  men.     On  the  contrary 
whatever  interpretation  of  terms  may  be  considered  most 
conven.enc  for  logical  thinking,  it  remains  a  fact,  which 
the  psychologist  cannot  ignore,  that  the  aspect  in  which 
a  term  is  viewed,  may  vary  with  the  attitude  of  the  mind 


•Mill's  Logic,  Book  i.,  Chap,  r,.,  §a. 


Reasoning. 


S13 

Mr.  Mill  holds  that  terms  properly  denote  things  rather 
than  merely  our  ideas  of  things-  and  with  certa  n 
xpana„on.s  his  theory  is  correct;  for  thought  wou  d 
■n  ts  function,  ,f  ,t  did  not  tal;e  us  beyond  its  own  sub- 
,c«.ve  operates,  if  it  did  not  construe  for  us  an  ol^ec- 
me  world  of  th.ngs.  But  the  explanations,  which  ought 
to  accompany  th,s  statement,  ,al<e  us  imo  the  sphere  of 
ontology.  M.II  is  led  into  the  ontological  question  which 
h.s  statement  suggests ;  and  it  is  worth  noting  that  his 
statement  ,s  nearly  eviscerated  of  its  meaning  by  h 
doctrme  as  to  what  constitutes  a  thing  f  »     ^  .■ 

All  our  concepts,  whether  they  represent  perception. 
of  mdividua  s,   or   Bmer■^\W■^t^r,„,     ■      ■  <-hiio"s 

alre,H„  c„  p"eralisations,    imply,  as  we    have 

already  seen,  reasonmgs  more  or  less  unconscious  Our 
.mellectual  life  begins  with  unreflective  reasonings,  and 
tl-e  concepts  thus  reached  form  the  starting-point  o, 
more  reflecve  reasonings,  by  which  the  ob!c^,re  and 
uncertan,  and  limited  results  of  unreflective  reasoning 
are  developed  and  confirmed  and  extended. 


I 


§  2.—Jt4dgment. 

An  object  of  thought-a  concept-is  usually,  as  we 
have  seen,  a  combination  of  attributes.  But,  of  course, 
all  tne  attributes  of  an  object  are  not  within  ,he  know- 
edge  of  every  intelligence;  and  even  when  they  have 
become  familiar  to  any  intelligence,  are  not  alway! 
presen  to  his  consciousness.  He  may  have  learnt  for 
example,  all  the  properties  by  which  a  particular  speVies 
of  annuals,  vegetables,  or  minerals  is  characterised  :  but 


I:  K    ;  (Mi 


i   : 


•  Mill's  Logic,  Book  i.,  Chap,  ii.,  %^, 
ildid.,  Book  i.,  Chap.  Hi.,  §§  13.15. 


214 


Psychology, 


in  his  ordinary  thoughts  these  properties  are  seldom  all 
consciously  recalled.  Take,  by  way  of  illustration,  any 
plant  with  its  peculiar  corolla,  calyx,  and  leaf,  the  num- 
ber of  its  petals,  sepals,  pisiils,  and  stamens,  as  well  as 
other  facts  in  reference  to  its  organisation,  its  growth,  or 
its  geographical  distribution.  Even  the  simpler  consti- 
tution of  a  mineral  does  not  exclude  a  multi[)licity  of 
properties,  geometrical,  physical,  and  chemical,  not  to 
speak  of  its  adventitious  aesthetic  or  commercial  uses. 
Thus  gold  is  distinguishable  from  other  minerals  by  no 
less  than  eight  different  properties.  Then,  when  we  come 
to  the  more  complicated  concepts  of  biology  and  psycho- 
logy, of  ethics  and  politics, — life,  thought,  beauty,  con- 
science, right,  and  many  others  of  a  similar  nature, — we 
find  not  only  that  our  concepts  usually  exhibit  a  very 
incomplete  grasp  of  all  the  factors  implied,  but  a  very 
indefinite  apprehension  even  of  those  which  are  con- 
ceived. 

Our  concepts  are,  therefore,  ordinarily  of  a  somewhat 
indefinite  character.  Now,  when  an  ordinary  indefinite 
concept  becomes  defined  by  attributing  to  it  some 
quality,  our  thought  assumes  the  form  that  is  technically 
called  2i  judgment,  the  indefinite  concept  being  the  sub- 
ject^ and  the  defining  quality  the  predicate.  When,  for 
example,  to  the  indefinite  concept  of  gold  as  a  yellow 
metal  I  add  the  predicate,  that  it  is  the  most  malleable 
of  all  metals,  or  that  it  is  fusible  in  a  mixture  of  nitric 
and  hydrochloric  acids,  I  form  a  judgment  about  the 
subject  gold.  It  is  scarcely  necessary,  therefore,  to  add 
that  judgments  cannot  by  a  rigid  line  be  separated  from 
concepts  :  the  judgment  is  in  fact  simply  the  concept 
unfoldinp-  itself  to  clearer  defiiiition. 

Of  judgments  some  are  formed  by  simply  evolv- 
ing the  meaning  involved  in  the  subject.     Thus,  when  I 


Reasoning,  215 

say,  A  quadruped  is  a  for  -footed  animal,  the  predicate  of 
four-footedness  merely  unfolds  the  idea  implied  in  the 
subject.  Such  judgments  have  accordingly  been  called 
anaiyiic,  explicative,  verbal,  essential.  On  the  other  hand, 
judgments,  which  add  1  the  idea  nnplied  in  the  subject, 
are  called  synthetic,  ampliative,  real,  accidental."* 

Explicative  judgments  are  dismissed  by  some  writers 
as  useless  fictions,  f     But  this  extreme  depreciation  of 
such  judgments  overlooks  their  real  nature.     To  most 
minds  the  ordinary  subjects  of  thought  are  indefinite 
concepts  which  require  explication  ;  and  such  explication 
is  rendered  all  the  more  necessary  from  the  fact  that 
most  of  the  terms  in  common  use  have  wandered  so  far 
from  their  primitive  meaning,  that  their  etymology  no 
longer  reveals  their  full  connotation.     Still  tliis  very  fact 
implies  that  the  distinction  between  analytic  and  syn- 
thetic judgments  is  one  that  cannot  always  be  carried 
out.     For  when  the  etymology  of  a  term  does  not  reveal 
its  connotation,  any  factor  of  the  connotation  may  con- 
stitute a  synthetic  judgment ;  and,  on   the  other  hand, 
when  a  scientific  thinker  has  mastered  the  complete  con- 
notation of  a  subject,  it  might  be  said  that  for  him  every 
judgment  about  it  must  be  merely  analytic.     It  some- 


•  Some  writers,  like  Thomson  {Otitline  of  the  Laws  of  Thouo/u, 
§  81),  distinguish,  as  a  separate  class,  tautoiogous  judgments^  in 
which  a  term  is  simply  predicated  of  itself,  as  in  Facts  art  facts,  A 
man's  a  man.  By  writers  of  the  school  of  Locke  such  judgments 
are  described  by  the  name  identical,  and  are  commonly  dismissed 
as  fnvolous.  See  Locke's  Essay,  Part  iv.,  Chap,  viii.,  §§  2-3 
Thomson,  indeed,  recognises  the  fact  that  such  judgments  may 
become  charged  with  meaning  by  some  particular  emphasis.  But 
he  is  mistaken  in  regarding  that  ?s  accidental  to  them  ;  it  is  rather 
their  essential  and  ordinary  use. 

f  Locke's  Essay  oh  the  Human  Under  standi vg.   Part  iv.,  Chap, 
vni.,  §§  4-  io  ;  Mill's  SyUem  0/  Logic,  Book  i.,  Chap.  vi. 


fSTHiv 


':! 


■  m   t 
?  ■  ir  ! 


% 

h 
jl 


2l6 


Psychology. 


\y\  \ 


;! 


Ill 


I 


♦.imes  happens,  however,  that  a  concept,  in  its  general 
attributes  perfectly  definite,  recei -es  some  particular 
qualification,  as  \\Wx\  u  udlknown  mineral  or  vegetable 
is  said  to  be  applied  \o  certain  adventitious  uses,  or  when 
an  accidental  aciiwn  or  state  is  ascribed  to  any  person. 

From  this  il  nj>pears  that  subjects  admit  of  various 
sorts  of  predicates.  The  classification  of  these  is  the 
object  of  the  logical  doctrine  of  predicables,  the  term 
predicahle  being  employed  for  any  word  that  is  capable  of 
being  used  as  a  predicate.  This  doctrine  is  of  special 
interest  to  the  logician  for  the  sake  of  that  accuracy  in 
thinking  at  which  he  aims;  for  to  attain  that  end  it  is 
indispensable  to  know  precisely  the  relation  of  the  pre- 
dicate to  the  subject  of  a  judgment.  But  the  classifi- 
cation of  predicables  is  not  of  the  same  importance  to 
the  psychologist.  Connected  with  this  subject,  however, 
there  is  a  general  question  which  does  possess  psycho- 
logical interest, — the  question,  namely,  as  to  the  import 
of  a  judgment  or  proposition.  In  the  preceding  section 
it  was  shown  that  a  similar  question  is  discussed  in 
reference  to  the  impor'  of  terms;  and  it  was  there 
explained  that  a  term  may  be  interpreted  from  different 
points  of  view.  The  same  points  of  view  also  affect  the 
import  attached  lo  proj^ositions.  For  example,  we  may 
consider  mainly  eit'rer  the  extension  or  the  intension  of 
a  predicate,  and  this  difference  will  alter  the  mode  in 
which  we  interpret  its  relation  to  the  subject.  In  fact, 
an  alteration  in  the  form  of  expression  will  often  give 
prominence  to  the  one  of  these  views  over  the  other. 
Thus,  if  I  sr.y.  The  orniihorynchus  is  a  quadruped,  I 
naturally  think  of  this  animal  as  belonging  to  the  class 
of  quadrupeds,  that  is  to  say,  I  interpret  the  proposition 
as  meaning  that  the  subject  is  included  within  the  exten- 
sion of  the  predicate.     When  i  vary  the  expression  into 


Reasoning,  217 

The  ornilhorynchus  is  four  footed,  I  think  rather  of  four- 
footedness  as  forming  one  of  the  attributes  of  the  animal, 
that  is,  the  predicate  is  conceived  as  being  included  in 
the  intension  of  the  subject. 

In  consequence  of  the  various  aspects  in  which  it  thus 
appears  that  a  proposition  may  be  viewed,  a  good  deal  of 
controversy  has  been  excited  regarding  the  real  import 
of  propositions.  Mr.  Mill  devotes  considerable  space  to 
the  criticism  of  various  theories  on  this  subject.*  He 
opposes  the  doctrines,  that  a  proposition  expre.sses  a 
relation  between  two  ideas,  or  between  the  meanings  of 
two  terms,  or  that  it  refers  something  to,  or  excludes 
something  from,  a  class  ;  and,  in  accordance  with  his 
theory  of  the  import  of  terms,  he  holds  that  a  proportion 
IS  to  be  interpreted  as  meaning  that  the  things  denoted 
by  the  subject  possess  the  attributes  connoted  by  the 
predicate. 

Now,  in  all  such  discussions,  as  in  the  similar  discus- 
sions  with  reference  to  the  import  of  terms,  consider- 
able confusion  arises  rom  allowinj?  the  inquiry  of  the 
logician  to  run  into  the  field  of  psychology.  The  pro- 
blem of  logic  is  to  find  out  what  is  the  a.spect  in  which  a 
proposition  should  be  treated  with  the  view  of  securing 
the  greatest  accuracy  of  thought  in  its  use.  But  'he 
import  attached  to  propositions  for  logical  purpose^  is 
not  necessarily  supposed  to  be  that  of  which  alone  they 
admit,  or  even  to  be  the  interpretation  most  commonly 
put  upon  them  in  the  confused  thinking  of  ordinary 
mental  life. 

%  3- — Reasoning  Proper, 
When  a  judgment  is  analytic,  it  must  be  evident  to 
every  one  who  understands  its  terms,  its  evidence  is  con- 

*  System  of  Lo^iu,  Book  i.,  Chap.  v. 


r 


im 


2ld 


Psychology, 


r 


r  H. 


n»'''  •« 


i!^ 


fi  I 


tained  in  its  own  terms,  in  itself;  it  is,  therefore,  called 
self-evident  Whether  any  synthetic  judgments  also  are 
self-evident,  is  a  question  that  need  not  je  discussed 
here.  It  is  admitted  that  a  vast  proportion  of  our  judg- 
ments do  not  cont,  in  their  evidence  in  themselves:  their 
evidence  must,  therefore,  be  sought  outside. 

Now,  a  judgment  is  a  relation  of  two  concepts,— of 
two  things  conceived  \  and  when  that  relation  is  in  itself 
unknown,  it  must  be  reached  from  some  other  relation 
that  is  known.  The  process,  by  which  this  is  reached, 
is  called  reasoning  or  inference,  in  the  stricter  sense  of 
these  terms.  It  is  this  process  that  is  now  to  be  analysed. 
In  order  to  this  analysis  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  the 
process  implies  (i)an  unknown  relation,  (2)  a  relation 
that  is  known,  (3)  a  transition  from  the  latter  to  the 
former  relation.  Now,  sucli  a  transition  of  thought  must 
consist  in  the  conscious  comparison  of  the  two  relations. 
The  analysis  may  be  rendered  clearer  by  a  few  expository 
observations. 

I.  Reasoning  is  thus  seen  to  be,  in  its  essential  nature, 
merely  the  universal  process  of  intelligence,— comparison, 
with  association  of  course  implied.  Objects,— materials,— 
therefore,  form  fit  data  for  reasoning,  in  proportion'  to 
their  fitness  for  the  uses  of  intelligence  in  general,— in 
proportion  to  their  comparability,  that  is,  the  ease  with 
which  their  relations  are  discoverable.  Now,  no  rela- 
tions are  so  obvious,  so  distinctly  apprehensible,  so 
measurable,  as  those  relations  of  mutual  externality  which 
constitute  space ;  and,  therefore,  geometry  was  the 
earliest  science  to  attain  exactness  of  reasoning.  Based 
on  the  concept  of  space  is  the  concept  of  quantity  in 
general ;  and  the  relations  of  quantities  are  among  the 
most  easily  comparable.  Accordingly  not  only  have 
the    sciences    of    abstract    quantity,— arithmetic    and 


Reasoning, 


219 


algebra,— long  ago  attained  exactness,  but  other  sciences 
become  exact  precisely  in  so  far  as  their  reasonings  take 
the  form  of  quantitative  calculations. 

II.  Since  it  thus  appears  that  reasoning  is  essentially 
identical  with  the  universal  process  of  intelligence,  it 
must  have  a  certain  affinity  with  those  other  forms  of 
intelligence,  the  ordinary  perceptions  and  generalisaiions, 
which  have  been  analysed  in  the  immediately  preceding 
chapters.  Still  there  is  of  course  also  a  certain 
difference  between  either  of  these  forms  of  intelligence 
and  reasoning.  That  difference  consists  in  the  fact, 
that  reasoning  is  a  more  complicated  comparison.  The 
superior  complication  of  reasoning  may  be  expressed  by 
saying,  that  it  is  not,  like  judgment,  a  comparison  of 
concepts,  but  a  comparison  of  judgments.  This  analysis 
of  reasoning  has  perhaps  never  been  more  clearly 
expounded  than  by  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  who  describes 
the  process  as  a  comparison,  not  of  terms,  but  of 
relations.*  Of  course  this  description  is  not  sufficient 
always  to  distinguish  reasoning  from  judgment,  or  even 
from  conception;  for  these  are  often  the  results  of 
reasoning.  Still,  reflective  reasoning  implies  previous 
concepts  and  judgments,  even  if,  as  when  they  are 
general,  they  have  been  formed  by  previous  reasonings, 
reflective  or  unreflective. 

From  this  it  follows  that  the  account  of  the  reasoning 
process  given  by  logicians  cannot  be  taken  as  a  psychol- 
ogical analysis.  In  the  common  textbooks  on  logic, 
reasoning  is  described  as  a  comparison  of  two  terms  with 
a  third  in  order  to  their  comparison  with  one  another. 


*  Principle$    of  Psychology,    Part    vi.,    Chapters   2—8.      The 
doctrine  is  perhaps  foreshadowed  by  Hobbes,      See,   besides  hia 

K^Oni^titutiv.-i,  iHc  ^ci.iuinun,  p.  ju  liViOieSWOilhs  ediLlOU). 


1 1'' 

m 

ti 

i; 

t:i 

k 

i, 


iill 


'  >  I 


220 


Psychology, 


Now,  for  logical  purposes  such  a  description  may  be  con- 
venient and  useful.    That  is  a  question  which  the  psycho- 
o,,.st  need  not  discuss.     But  no  psychological  analysis 
^ould  completely  exhibit  the  nature  of  reasoning,  nhich 
did  not  point  out  that  it  implies  a  comparison  of  two 
relations  or  judgments.     Then  the  premisses  are  to  be 
regarded  as  representing  the  two  relations,  and  the  con- 
clusion m  reality  expresses  their  relation  or  comparison, 
lo  Illustrate,  let  us  exhibit  the  syllogism  under  the  form 
which  It  would  take  from  this  analysis.      Let  P  =  major 
term,   S  =  minor   term,   and   M  =  middle    term.      Then 
the  following  formula  would  represent  a  syllogism  in  the 
first  figure : — 

M  is  P, 
S    is  M, 
.*.  S    is  P. 

This,  according  to  the  above  analysis,  would  run  into 
the  more  complete  formula  ; 

S  :  M  :  :  M  ;  P; 
and  that,  of  course,  is  equivalent  to 

S  :  M  =  M  ;  P. 

If  the  syllogism  were  negative,  as 

M  is  not  P, 
S  is  M, 
.'.  S  is  not  P, 

•hen  the  relation  of  S  :  M  would  be  represented  as  un- 
equal  to  ihe  relation  of  M  :  P. 

This  will  perhaps  be  clearer  in  the  case  of  quantitative 
reaso„,„gs.    Take,  therefore,  a  very  simple  Vbraicl! 


Reasoning. 


221 


4x  +  2   =3^  +  4 

4x  —  ^x  =  4—.2 

.'.     X  =  2 


(0 

(2) 

(3) 


Here  ,t  ,s  evident  that  the  operation  is  a  procedure  in 
hougt  from  (r)  to  (.),  and  from  (3)  to  (3).  Each  of 
hese  three  stages  in  the  procedure,  however,  is  an  equa- 
tion, that  IS,  a  relation  or  judgment  of  equality  ;  and  the 
procedure  from  one  to  another  involves  the  comparison 
of  each  with  that  to  which  it  leads.  The  reasoning, 
therefore,  in  this  instance,  if  fully  expressed,  would  run 

(4X  +  2)  :  (3^-  +  4)  :  ,  (4;^— 3^^)  :  (^-^2), 
and 

(4^—3^)  :  (4—2)  :  :x:  2. 

This  simple  operation  may  be  taken  as  a  type  of  quanti- 
tative reasonings  in  general,  for  the  most  elaborate  calcu. 
lations  are  simply  a  lengthening  .ut  of  the  same  process 
It  appears,  therefore,  that  all  quantitative  reasonings  in 
applied  as  well  as  in  pure  mathematics,  involve  a  similar 
comparison  of  equations  more  or  less  numerous  But 
quantitative  reasonings  differ  from  others  only  in  the 
fact,  that  they  exhibit  the  reasoning  process  with  the 
great  advantage  of  absolutely  exact  terms  ;  and,  conse- 
quently, all  reasoning  is  analysed  into  a  comparison,  not 
of  terms  merely,  but  of  judgments. 

III.  All  the  varieties  of  the  reasoning  process  are 
usually  regarded  as  modifications  of  two  fundamental 
types,— one  proceeding  from  the  general  to  the  i)articu- 
lar,  and  called  Deduction  ;  the  other,  from  the  particular 
to  the  general,  and  called  Induction.  But  some  recent 
writers,  following  Mr.  Mill,*  recognise  an  inference  from 


•  S}>/em  ofUgic^  Book  ii.,  Chap,  lii.,  §  r 


vm 


222 


Psychology, 


% 

! 


I 


11' 


Ml 


i 


particulars  to  particulars,  maintaining  even  at  times,  tliat 
all  reasoning  is  of  this  nature.     Now,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  of  the  fact,  that  a  procedure  of  this  sort  does  occur 
in  consciousness.      It  may  even  be  admitted  that  it  is 
probably  more  common  than  a  definite  ascent  to  the 
general,  or  a  definite  descent  to  the  particular.     Take, 
for  illustration,   one  of  Mr.    Mill's  own  examples,  the 
reasoning  implied  ii  the  proverb,  that   "a  burnt  child 
dreads  the  fire."      It  is  well  known  that  one  or  two 
experiences  are  sufficient  to  associate  in  a  child's  mind 
the  appearance  of  a  fire  with  the  painful  sensation  of 
burning,  and  that  any  subsequent  sight  of  the  fire  will 
probably  suggest  the  thought  that  the  touch  of  the  fire  will 
be  followed  by  the  former  pain.     Any  of  the  more  intelli- 
gent among  the  lower  animals  can  go  through  this  process. 
The  actuality  of  such  a  mental  process,  then,'is  not  a 
matter  of  doubt.     The  only  question  is  as  to  the  pro- 
priety of  calling  it  reasoning.     It  may  appear  at  first  as 
if  this  were  merely  a  question  of  words ;  but,  as  in  many 
similar  cases,  a  failure  to  distinguish  by  different  terms 
phenomena  that  have  only  a  superficial  resemblance  may 
lead  to  serious  confusion  of  thought.     Here  there  is  an 
essential  difference  between  tiie  mental  processes  that 
would  be  included  under  one  term.    In  one  process  a  fact 
is  simply  suggested  by  another  fact  in  accordance  with  the 
unconsciously  operating  laws  of  association  ;  in  the  other 
process  a  fact  is  thought  as  founded  on  a  certain  reason. 
The  latter  is  appropriately  called  reasoning,  because  it  is 

the  consciousness  of  a  reason.     Whether  the  former, 

the  mere  suggestion,— should  also  be  called  reasoning, 
may  not  be  considered  a  question  of  prime  importance  \ 
but  it  is  certainly  important  to  distinguish,  in  some  un- 
mistakable way,  processes  so  essentially  different  as  those 
-"escribed.     Mr.  Mill  himself  explains  that,  whenever  the 


Reasoning,  22^ 

reason  of  proceeding  from  particulars  to  particulars  is 
sought,  that  reason  is  to  be  found  in  a  general  proposi- 
tion with  reference  to  the  zohoie  class  of  phenomena  to 
which  the  particulars  belong ;  and  it  is  more  in  accord- 
ance with  the  use  of  language,  as  well  as  more  convenient 
for  scientific  purposes,  to  restrict  the  term  reasoning  to 
those  transitidhs  of  consciousness,  in  which  a  reason  for 
the   transition    is    thought.      Ccnsequently,    when   any 
reasonings  are  spoken  of  as  unreflective,  this  expression 
must  be  understood  in  a  qualified  sense.     When  any 
process  which   simulates  reasoning,   is  absolutely  unre- 
flective,-when  it  is  a  simple  transition  of  consciousness 
without  any  reflection  on  its  reason,-it  ought,  in  psycho- 
logical  analysis,  to  be  degraded  to  a  mere  suggestion. 

The  common  distinction  between  Deductive  and  In- 
ductive Reasonings  may,  therefore,  be  retained,  and 
more  closely  examined. 

I.  neduction  is  not,  as  often  represented,  a  mere/^//l 
iio  prtncipit.     It  is  that  process  of  thought,  in  which  the 
reason  of  a  particular  fact  is  found  in  a  general  fact,  that 
is,  m  a  whole  class  of  facts  in  which  the  particular  fact  is 
contained.     The  mistake  of  representing  this  as  a  mere 
begg->g  of  the  question   has  probably  arisen  from  the 
supposition,  that  the  geneial  reason  must  be,  or  usually 
is,  thought  before  the  particular  fact.     This  supposition 
itself  may  have  its  origin  in  the  confusion  between  the 
artificial  formulae  of  logic  and  the  natural  processes  of 
consciousness.     Commonly  at  the  present  day  logicians 
state  the  parts  of  a  syllogism  in  the  order  of  Major  Pre- 
miss,   Minor    Premiss,    Conclusion;    and    for    logical 
accuracy  this  may  be  a  proper  artifice.     But  even  among 
logicians  this  order  hds  not  been  always  maintained  ;• 


See  Hamiltnn'e   T ^yt^M-^t  ..^    /•-_••-     t 


nppcjjuis  X. 


224 


Psychology. 


and  no  philosophical  logician  holds  that  that  is  the  order 
in  which  alone  men  can  think,  or  in  which  alone  they 
actually  do  think.  , 

Deduction,  then,  is  a  real  process  of  intelliger  e,  even 
though  its  chronological  procedure  may  usually  be  from 
particular  fact  to  general  reason.     Its  possibility  and  its 
actuality  arise  from  the  same  cause  as  the  possibility  and 
actuality  of  ju  g-  snts,  namely,  because  we  do  not  always 
thmk   explicitly    .11  that  is   implicitly    involved   in  our 
thought.     A  deduction  simply  unfolds  to  consciousness 
what  consciousness  may  not  have  previously  realised  as 
part  of  the  extension  or  of  the  intension  of  a  concept ; 
and  the  deduction  may  often  be  of  incalculable  theoretical 
or  practical  importance.     For,  though  it  is  common  to 
make   fun  of  the  stock-example  in  logical  text-books, 
*'  All  men  are  ..lortal :  Caesar  is  a  man ;  and  therefore 
Caesar  is  mortal,"  yet  it  is  often  a  crisis  of  unutterable 
meaning  in  the  mental  life  of  a  man,  when  he  substitutes 
for  the  mere  symbol    CcEsar,   father,    mother,   brother, 
sister,  friend,  and  for  the  first  time  the  thought  flashes 
into  consciousness,  that  one  of  these  must  die,  since  all 
men  do. 

2.  Induction  is  properly  that  process  in  which  the  rea- 
son of  a  general  proposition  is  thought  to  be  the  obser- 
vations made  in  reference  to  the  particulars  which  the 
proposition  includes.     In  actual  conscious  life  this  pro- 
cess  admits  of  numerous  varieties  in  its  stages;  and  the 
norm,  by  which  it  ought   to  be  governed   in  order  to 
guard  against  error,  forms  the  subject  of  Inductive  Logic. 
Though  Induction  and   Deduction  are  thus  disting- 
uished for  scientific  purposes,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed 
that  they  always,  or  even  commonly,  exist  apart  in  actual 
thinkmg.     Not  only  is  the  intermingling  of  the  two  pro- 
cesses evident  to  psychological  observation,  but  the  logi- 


I 


Reasoning. 

''u<hs  are  established,  even  TfThe  „hn  '  "^<^''/™-^' 
claim  that  every  Inducln  is  Led    "  ""'" 

Deduction.  '"'"^  ^''^al 


:i« 


226 


Rsychology, 


CHAPTER  IV. 


li 


^ 


NJi 


i. 


IDEALISATION. 

THE    term,    Idealisation,    is    here    employed    to 
designate    the   latest    and   fullest    outgrowth   of 
mtellectual  life,  in  which  the  earlier  and  simpler  activities 
culminate.     It  is  not,  indeed,  to  be  regarded  as  sharply 
separable  from     hese   in  the   actual  oi)erations  of  the 
mmd,  any  more  than  these  are  always  separable  from 
one  another.      In  the  evolution  of  ^^ese  activities  the 
simpler  forms  of  idealisation  are  perpetually  anticipated  ; 
but  it  implies  something  which  is  not  explicitly  exercised 
in  these,  and  represents,  in  its  maturer  developments,  the 
highest  reaches  of  intelligence.      After  attaining  percep- 
tions of  the  individual  and  conceptions  of  the  general, 
after  ratiocinative   transitions   from   one  to   the   other,' 
intelligence  learns  to  combine  in  one  cognition  both  of 
these  products  of  its  activity  ;   the  individual  becomes 
transfigured  with  a  higher  glory  by  being  viewed  as  the 
exponent  of  general  laws,  while  these  lose  their  dead 
abstractness  by  being  seen  in  the  concrete  particulars,  in 
which  alone  they  have  any  living  reality. 

The  use  of  the  term,  idealisation,  to  express  this 
activity  of  intelligence,  may  be  explained  by  reference  to 
its  original  meaning.  Idealisation  is  literally,  the 
formation  of  an  ideal.      Now,   an  ideal   is  an   objea 


Idealisation.  227 

which  receives  its  determinate  character  from  an  idea,  as 
ion  f'" ':""^^;^^°!^d  in  its  earlier  and  higher  significa- 
t>on.  But  in  this  signification  idea  means  the  general 
concept  which,  in  the  Platonic  philosophy  especially,  was 
supposed  toconstitute  the  real  essence  of  every  individual 
n  a  class.t  An  ideal  is,  therefore,  an  object  which  is 
thought  as  an  embodiment,  not  of  particular  accidents, 
but  of  universal  principles. 

Accordingly,  such  an  object  implies  the  prior  formation 
Of  the  general  concept  which  it  embodies.     The  general 
concept  is  the  end  which  the  intelligence  seeks  to  realise 
in  determining  the  ideal  object.     But  the  object  thus 
aimed  at  is  various,  and  it  varies  in  accordance  with  the 
various  activities  of  intelligence,  of  which  it  is  the  end. 
These  activities  may  be  purely  speculative,  concerned 
merely  ,„  the  exercise   of  intellect ;    or   they  may  be 
eesthetic,  concerned  primarily  with  the  feelings  :  or  thev 
may  be  ethical,  concerned  immediately  with  the  direction 
of  the  will.     Finally,  there  may  be  an  activity  of  still 
larger  scope,  as  embracing  all  these  three,  and  aiming  at 
an  Ideal  which  absorbs  the  ideals  of  all  the  others.    Thi« 
activity  may  be  named  religious.     The  ideal  of  the  "-st 
activity  is  truth  absolute,  that  is,  an  absolutely  harmoni- 
ous system  of  thought;  of  the  second,  it  is  beauty,  that 
IS,  an  absolutely  harmonious  gratification ;  of  the  third 
It  IS  goodness,  that  is,  an  absolutely  harmonious  objeci 
of  volition.    Of  the  supreme  activity  of  the  human  spirit 


t  On  the  history  of  the  word  idea  the  materials  for  an  interesting 
Bke tch  will  be  found  in  Sir  W.  Hamilton's  edition  of  ReicTs  Works. 
WOte  U.      Comnarf  nier.  H^nr.-.;itr..,'»   ri,v„r,.-,^ 


223 


I 


lil 


Psychology, 


the  ideal  is  God,  that  is,  a  being  who  comprehends  all 
goodness  and  beauty  and  truth. 

This  chapter  naturally  divides  into  four  section!. 

§  i.~The  S/eciilative  Ideal. 

As  already  stated,  the  ideal  of  all  intellectual  exertion 
is  truth.      But  truth,   as   its  etymology   implies,   is  an 
activity  of  mind ;  it  is  what  a  mind  tn>7cef/i*     We  have 
seen,  however,  that  all  the  intellectual  activities  hitherto 
analysed  involve  consciousness  of  relation.     A  percep- 
tion, even  in  the  simplest  form,    is  a  consciousness  of 
resemblance  between  a  past  and  a  present  sensation,— a 
recognition  of  a  past  sensation  in  the  present.    Generali- 
sation is  a  consciousness  of  resemblance  between  different 
phenomena,  which  are  on  that  ground  thought  under  one 
category  or  class.      And  reasoning  was  shown  to  be  a 
consciousness  of  resemblance   between   relations.       All 
cognitions  are  thus  reducible  to  a  consciousness  of  rela- 
tions, which  increase  in  complexity  with  the  development 
of  intellectual  life. 

But  every  consciousness  of  relation  is  not  cognition. 
To  make  it  cognition,  the  relation  must  be  not  merely 
an  accidental  coexistence  in  an  individual  consciousness  • 
it  must  be  independent  on  the  accidents  of  an  individual's 
mental  life;  it  must  be  valid  for  universal  intelligence. 
In  a  word,  it  must  be,  not  a  subjective  association,  but 
an  objective  connection.  Such  a  consciousness  is  truth, 
knowledge,  science. 

Accordingly,  the  endeavour  after  truth  is  an  effort  to 


•  Trcnvetk,  trowth,  trout/t,  and  troth  are  old  spellings  of  truth. 
Piers  Plowman  uses,  on  one  occasion,  even  the  seemingly  para- 
doxical  expression,  "many  a  fals  treiithe,"  which  is,  of  course, 
merely  many  a  false  trowing  or  opinion. 


IdealisatioH.  220 

Bring  all  our  consciousnesses-all  our  trowings-not  only 
.mo  l-armonious  relation,  but  into  such  connection,  that 
they  shall  all  be  thought  a,  dependent  on,  necessi  ated 
by,  each  other.  All  scientific  research  sets  out  with  the 
ass,,„p,,on,  that  every  truth  is  in  thinkable  unison  with 
every  other;  and  scentific  effort  would  be  at  once 
paralysed  by  the  suspicion,  that  there  is  any  factor  of 
nowMge  which,  in  the  last  analysis,  ™ay'be  a  surd 
quantity  tncapable  of  being  brot.ght  into  intelligible  rela- 

cie"nir  ,h     f  """'.^^^'^"'  °f  '^-'S"'-     -l-he  t.bours  of 

h  ,"?'■  '■  ''  ""'  "'  "'^^^^""8  'o  consciousness 
ths  reciprocal  connection  of  different  truths ;  and  the 
.mellectual  .deal  is  thus  a  system  of  thought,  in  which  H 
cogmttons,  t  at  ,s,  all  truths,  all  objective  connections 
are  conceived  as  component  factors  of  one  self-conscious^ 
ness.     buch  a  system  is  absolute  truth. 

Here  it  would  be  out  of  place  to  sketch  such  a  system 

nornJ"  ^'"rf  °""'"'-    '^''''  '■'  "'^  ""'''  "f  philosophy,' 
not  of  psychology.     Our  interest  is  limited  to  the  menta 

process,    by   which   such    a    system    unfolds    itself    in 

consciousness;  and  it  now  appears  that  this  process  is 

merely  an  inevitable  outgrowth  of  that  conscious  com- 

parison,  which  constitutes  intelligence  universally. 

i  I-— The  /Esthetic  Ideal. 

The  esthetic  ideal  is  beauty,  and  this  has  been  already 
described  as  an  absolutely  pure  gratification.  Now,  our 
gratifications-our  pleasures-as  well  as  our  pains,  arise 
Jiom  the  exercise  of  our  various  powers  in  accordance 
with  a  law  which  will  be  investigated  in  the  next  part  of 
this  book.  It  will  thus  appear  that  a  pleasure,  to  be 
pure,  that  is,  to  be  free  from  any  alloy,  must  b.  disin- 

terested  :  in  r»tv>or  ..,r>rr!-   -^  .- >     j- 

-'  ■'"'  Aords,  it  juusc  oe  dissociated  from  al) 


230 


Psychology, 


m 


the  interests  of  life,  speculative  and  practical,  higher  and 
lower  aliice.  The  lower  interests  are  associated  most 
closely  with  the  struggle  for  individual  existence,  the 
higher  with  the  struggle  for  social  existence.  The  lower 
are,  therefore,  what  are  commonly  understood  as  selfish 
interests;  the  higher  as  unselfish,  social,  mor'''  The 
two  may  be  briefly  spoken  of  as  egoism  and  altruism  re- 
spectively.  Esthetic  gratification,  as  pure  or  harmonious, 
must  be  free  from  any  incongruity  either  of  egoism  or  of 
altruism.  The  activities,  on  which  it  depends,  as  has 
often  been  pointed  out  since  Schiller's  time,  are  of  the 
nature  of  play,*  in  which  exertion  has  no  end  beyond 
itself,  findini^  vjomplete  satisfaction  in  the  pleasure  which 
itself  produces. 

That  aspect  of  the  aesthetic  consciousness,  in  which  it 
is  considered  as  a  mere  feeling  of  pleasure,  relegates  it 
to  the  next  part ;  but  it  has  another  aspect  too.  In  so 
far  as  it  is  a  consciousness  of  an  object  qualified  to  give  a 
pure  gratification,  it  involves  an  intellectual  factor,  the 
quality  of  the  object  being  what  is  understood  by  beauty. 
It  is  this  intellectual  side  of  the  aesthetic  consciousness 
that  comes  under  consideration  at  present. 

Intellectually  this  consciousness  is  often  described  as 
imagination.  As  this  term  seems  to  imply  merely  the 
unaltered  representation  of  what  has  been  formerly  pre- 
sented in  consciousness,  psychologists  have  been  accus- 
tomed to  give  explicitness  to  their  language  by  disiing- 


*  See  Schiller's  Briefe  uber  die  asthetische  Ei  ziehung  des  Mens- 
Chen,  especially  the  sixteenth  letter.  It  is  this  suggestion  of 
Schiller's  that  forms  the  germ  of  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer's  account 
of  aesthetic  feeling  {Principles  of  Psychology,  Part  viii.,  Chap,  ix.), 
of  which  a  detailed  exposition  is  given  in  Mr.  Grant  Allen's  volume 
on  Physiological  Esthetics. 


3ii:iLJ 


IdealisatwH. 


aji 


u.shmg    such    unaliered    representa.ion    a,  n„Mc   or 

SIh'"  "'"«.'"^"°"'  ""^"^  «"«  imagination,  implied 
...  aesthefc  conscousness,  is  described  with  varying  pro- 

form  of  idealtsafon  will  also  be  found,  on  analysis  to  be 
merely  a  n,ode  of  the  general  processes  o.  inteliige;,'!  - 
association  and  comparison.  ' 

..The  materials  of  productive  imagination,  wh-n  not 
upphed  ■mmediately  by  perception,-and  then  of  course 
they   imply   the  as:      iations   and    comparisons   of   all 
percept,ons._are  g  •    .   by  representations,  that  is    by 
simple  imag-,na.ions,  suggested  by  the  laws  of  association 
.    But  there  is  more  implied  than  the  unmodified  re! 
production  of  former  cognitions,  and  it  is  this  additional 
factor  of  imagination  that  is  intended  to  be  expressed  by 
such  terras  as  productive  and  creative.     It  is  true  that 
m  one  respect,  the  mind  cannot  be  said  to  create  o^ 
produce  anythmg,  as  it  cannot  give  existence  to  any 
materials  which  it  has  not  originally  received  from  sense 
and  for  this  reason  the  term  plastic  has  been  suggested 
as  more  descriptive  of  its  operation.*     But  by  rearninging 
the  materials  once  given  to  it,  imagination  does  create 
for  these  a  new  form  ;  and  in  this  sense  the  artistic  mind 
may  be  truly  spoken  of  as  creative  :  it  is  this  power  of 
originating  arrangements,  which  to  itself  are  new    that 
constitutes  the  originality  of  any  mind.     This  creative 
process  must  now  be  analysed. 

Under  analysis  this  process  discloses  so  many  forms 
more  or  less  complex,  of  that  fundamenul  function  of 
intelligence,  which  has  been  so  often  referred  to  already 
as  comparison.     This  function  is  involved,  not  only  ii, 

498,^0^'  "'"'"°"''  "^""■'"  "^  '^'"f'V"".  Vol.  E.  pp.  .62, 


Psychology. 


those    identifications    and    discriminations    which    the 
original  materials  of  imagination  imply,  but  in  a  peculiar 
and  distinctive  mode.     The  original  materials  are  com- 
posite wholes,  which  must  be  decomposed  into  parts,  in 
order  that  these  may  be  recombined  into  new  wholes. 
But  this  decomposition  is  simply  one  of  the  functions  of 
comparison  or  thought ;  it  is  the  separation  or  discrimi- 
nation of  parts  from  one  another.     In  like  manner  the 
recombination  of  the  parts  into  a  new  whole  is  a  further 
function  of  comparison  ;  it  is  the  identification  of  corres- 
ponding parts  of  different  wholes.   This  may  be  illustrated 
by  takmg  one  of  the  less  complex  operations  of  imagina- 
tion,   such    as    the    creation    of    one    of    the   simpler 
forms   of   fabulous    animals.      What,    for    example,    is 
implied    in    the    imagination    of  a   centaur?      First   of 
all,   there  are,   to  start  with,  two  original   wholes— the 
human  figure  and  that  of  a  horse.     The  two  figures  are, 
in  thought,  separa    d  into  parts.     The  upper  part— the 
bust — of  man  is  conceived  as  having  a  certain  analogy 
with  the  upper  part— the  head  and  neck— of  the  horse  ; 
while  the  respective  lower  parts  are  likewise  conceived  as 
analogous.      The    parts    of  one    figure  are  thus    made 
alternately  to  supplant,  and  to  be  supplanted  by,  corres- 
ponding parts  of  the  other  ;  and  by  this  comparison  there 
is  created  for  thought  a  new  imaginary  form  of  animal. 

While  this  simple  creation  illustrates  the  nature  of  the 
process  implied  in  all  artistic  productions,  it  must  not  be 
supposed  that  they  are  all  so  easily  analysed.  On  the 
contrary,  many  of  these  are  so  complex  as  to  elude  the 
most  subtle  analysis.  This  may  be  evinced  more  clearly 
by  observing  that  the  wholes  analysed  in  the  work  of 
imagination  are  of  two  kinds,  which  may  be  diotinguished 
as  quantitative  and  qualitative. 

I.  A  qurintitativt  whole,  which  was  variously  named, 


Idealisation, 


233 


by  older  writers,  integral  or  mathematical,  is  one  whose 
parts  exist  out  of  each  other  in  space,  and  are  therefore 
really  separable.  The  treatment  of  such  wholes  by  the 
nnagination  has  just  been  illustrated  in  the  fiction  of 
fabulous  animals  Even  in  higher  efforts  a  similar 
analysis  and  synthesis  sometimes  find  scope.  The 
sculptor  or  painter  of  an  ideal  will  naturally  study  the 
peculiarities  of  figure  in  the  objects  most  celebrated  for 
the  particular  type  of  beauty  which  he  wishes  to  produce; 
and  the  features  of  his  new  creation  may  be  suggestions 
gathered  from  a  great  variety  of  such  objects.  This 
appears  in  the  fact,  that  the  ideal  of  every  age  and 
country  receives  its  distinctive  character  from  the 
realities  with  which  the  artist  must  have  been  most 
familiar. 

2.  But  the  more  complicated  productions  of  imagina- 
tion imply  also,  and  more  generally,  the  analysis  and 
synthesis  oi  gualitative  wholes.  These  have  bsen  some- 
thiies  z2MqA  physical  or  essential  Their  parts  are  quali- 
ties which,  as  not  existing  outside  of  each  other  in  space, 
are  separable  only  in  idea,  not  in  reality.  Thus  colour 
and  figure,  as  attributes  of  the  human  body,  are  parts  of 
a  qualitative  whole ;  and  so  are  thought,  feeling,  desire, 
virtue,  vice,  as  attributes  of  the  human  soul.*  It  is  evi- 
dent that  all  art,  in  so  far  as  it  gives  expression  to  the 
spiritual  life,  must  deal  with  this  kind  of  whole. 

The  play  of  intelligence  in  producing  its  own  ideal 
world  is  thus  found  to  be  that  analysis  and  synthesis— 
that  discrimination  and  identification— which  we  have 
found  to  be  the  function  of  intelligence  that  excites  the 
aesthetic  emotions;   and  the  attribute  of  beauty,   with 


*  On  this  distinction  of  wholes  see  Sir  W.  Hamilton's  Lectuni 
%n  Metaphysics,  Vol.  ii.,  pp.  339-40,  with  the  authorities  cited. 


lti.„ 


234 


Psychology, 


!'• 


which  it  clothes  its  objects,  has  been  therefore  not  untruly 
described  as  unity  in  variety.     This  description,  indeed, 
IS  one  of  those  abstractions  which  are  far  too  general  to 
be  of  much  service  in  definition.     It  implies  merely  thr.t 
any  particular  object  of  beauty,  or  the  universe  conceived 
as  beautiful,  must  exhibit,  amid  all  its  variety,  that  unity, 
m  virtue  of  which  alone  it  is  intelligible— in  virtue  of 
which  alone,  in  fact,  it  is  an  object  at  all.      Still  some 
importance  may  be  claimed,  even  for  this  very  general 
uiiplicaiion.      It  brings  the  aesthetic  ideal  into  harmony 
with  the  speculative.      It  shows  that  the  beauty  of  any- 
thing has  a  certain  affinity  with  its  truth-that  permanent 
aesthetic  gratification  must  be  derived,  not  from  the  tran- 
sient fancies  which  particular  men  entertain  about  things 
but  from  that  insight  into  the  real  nature  which  things 
disclose  to  universal  intelligence. 

The  direction,  which  the  aesthetic  play  of  intelligence 
takes,  is  determined  by  circumstances  which  can  be  dis- 
covered only  by  an  investigation  of  particular  cases  ;  and 
such  investigation  must  be  left  for  the  biographers  of 
artists  and  the  historians  of  art.      The  various  products 
of  aesthetic  intelligence  are  spoken  of  as  the  fine  arts  in 
contradistinction  from  those  in  which  utility  is  the  ideal 
and  which  are  described  as  mechanical.    But  it  has  often 
been  remarked  that  the  two  ideals  are  frequently  com- 
bined, and  that   a   more   intense  aesthetic   satisfaction 
results  from  the  consciousness   that  the  beauty  of  an 
object  is  due  to  the  same  arrangement  which  gives  it 
utility.     This  cou  bination  can  be  easily  explained.     For 
utility  is  the  adaptation  of  means  to  an  end.    It  is,  there- 
fore, an  extremely  definite  form  of  that  unity  in  variety, 
which  we  have  seen  to  be  characteristic  of  beauty. 
It  is  common  to  distinguish  the  fine  arts  in  accord* 


'♦^Sw. 


Idealisation,  j.- 

to  tne  same-the  faculties  which  they  address      Thi, 

pnncple  d.vides  them  into  three  clasLs.     Fo    all  the 

ts  e,.her  use  the  two  most  intellectual  senses  !h,h 

have  been  sometimes  inaccurately  spoken  of  as  hlsole 

I.  The  arts,     hich  address  themselves  to  the  eve  are 
.h  ee.-sculpture,  architecture,  and  painting.     From  the 

tr  ct.on  they  are  Imuted  to  the  situation  of  a  moment 
Al   mouon  all  change,  all  that  is  unfolded  through    me 

can  ten  of  "  '''  '"'""''''''  ^'"^  "' '"-«  -t  ^ey 
can  tell  of  any  eveht  which  occupies  time  merely  what^I 
capable  of  beinu  apprehended  in  fh„  ^ 

5  «lj|ji  ciienaea  m  the  arrangement  of  cir. 

cumstances  at  a  particular  instant  This  limhation  If 
course,  imposes  a  peculiar  difficulty  on  te  rtt  ^'rf 
<iu.res  hm,  to  select  from  the  evolution  of  any  phenlm 
enon  that  moment,  at  which  its  whole  meaning  will  be 
most  completely  suggested  to  the  specta  o  What 
moment  best  fulfils  this  condition      th^  • 

-•ddle.  or  the  clo.e  o,  a  dX:!";:!!:^,  r^'.-fj^;^ 
technical  interest,   which  neerl   nnf  k     ^-     '   ^'^™  °' 

'^-  "--  affords  .hrartrfn-o^olnlrro^i: 
one  of  the  most  potent  charms  within  the  reach  of  h  n  ^ 
sk.ll.  He  can  snatch  from  the  ceaseless  currents  of  tin,! 
any  moment  of  peculiar  significance,  and  preserv"  nm 
h,ng  of  us  Itnng  power  for  the  perennial  enjoyment  of 
^nnan  stght.  It  is  but  with  sober  truth,  there  o"e  ,.1 
Wordsworth  exalts  the  function  of  the  painter--! 


'  Thou,  with  ambition  modest  yet  subli 
Here,  for  jh<»  cifTK^  «r »-i  '         . 


me, 


2j6 


Psychology. 


mk 


ill-   \l 


[III 


. 


I!i! 


'nit 


To  one  brier  moment 

e  appropriate  cnim  of  hicst  etcrmly. 


1\\ 


uitijjlit  from  ncciing  time 


»»# 


1  l.cre  IS  probably,  .noreover,  in  every  product  of  time 
T.'  7r'"'v"'"'^''  '^  ""'''=  "'"Ply  »"^'Kcs.ive  than  any 

an  adchuonal  s,«n,n<.,„oo  is  given  ,o  his  craft,  when  he 
frees  ha.  moment  fron,  its  natural  mutability,  and  i.npar.s 
to  It  an  .deal  permanence.     Although,  therefore,  it  may 
b    mth  aht.le  youthful  extravagance,  it  is  not  without 
win""?'  """""'''•  "•••"Scl.clling,  in  one  of  his  earlier 
wnfngs,  observes  :_••  Every  product  of  nature  has  only 
one  .no,„ent  of  .rue  perfect  beauty,  one  mon.en.  of  full 
ex,ste,.ce.   In  tins  „,o„,ent  it  is  what  it  is  for  all  eternity; 
beyond  tins  there  con.es  to  it  only  a  growth  an.l  a  decay 
Inasmuch  as  art  presents  the  essence  of  the  thing  in  that 
oment,  .t  hfts  it  beyond  time;  i,  ,„akes  it  appear  in  it 
pure  being,  m  the  eternal  form  of  its  life  "  f 

..  Of  the  three  arts  included  .inder  .his  head  the  most 
bn  .ted  m  its  range  is  .,/,///„;•,,  f„r  u  ^„^       „,^  ^^^ 
"ely  varied  effect  of  colotir,  which  is'one  o'f  the  cll    f 
sources  of  the  painter's  power,  as  well  as  the  aic)  which   ' 
h    obtains  from  a  background  as  a  setting  ,o  his  figures, 
'be sculptor  is  limited  to  mere  form  for  the  expression  of 
b  .  conceptions,     liu,  it  is  the  hum,.n  form  that  he  em- 

.-nt.tudc.     These,  however,  are  ordinary  natural  expres- 
sions,  and  often  the  most  pathetic  expressions  of  human 


♦  Miscellaneous  Sonnefs,  ix. 

+  C/el>^rUas    leMOnss  der   biUeuden   Kiimte  zu  der  Nalur 

rnun,      No.  ,t  wa.  on  the  daisy. -a  very  different  thing  J  » 


Iiiealisation. 


23; 


emotion  ;  so  that  the  range  of  the  sculptor's  power  is 
larger,  and  its  intensity  deeper,  than  the  limitation  of  his 
material  might  at  first  lead  us  to  suppose. 

2.  Aniiitirtitte  is  akin  to  sculpture  in  the  material  it 
employs,  but  perfectly  distinct  in  the  effect  at  which  it 
aims.      Leaving   the  defmiteness  of  the  human   figure, 
founding  its  combinations  rather  on  the  forms  of  external 
nature,  it  is  necessarily  more  vague  in  its  effects  on  the 
mind,  awakening  more  of  sentin»ent  than  of  clear  concep- 
tion.     It  is  an  often  quoted  saying,  that  architecture  is 
"  frozen  music  ;»  and  its  affmiiy  with  music  in  the  pre- 
ponderance of  its  emotional  over  its  intellectual  effects 
gives  a  certain  significance  to  the  expression.     Architec- 
ture, therefore,  takes  rank  with   music  among  the  arts 
which  have  served  as  handmaids  to  religion,  fntcd  as  it 
is  by  the  mysterious  vagueness  of  its  effects  to  .stimulate 
"  the  spirit  that  workelh  in  us  with  groanings  which  can- 
not be  uttered."      There  is  a  kindred   sublimity  in  the 
ideas  associated   with    puljjic  order  in  any  community, 
forming  as  it  does  a  human  type  of  the  vaster  order  of 
the  universe.      Not  inapi)iopriateIy,  therefore,  has  archi- 
tecture been  employed  among  all  nations  in  the  service 
of  political  welfare  for  the  purpose  of  adding  its  imposing 
effects  to  the  institutions  of  government. 

3.  There  is  a  certain  restriction  attached  to  painting 
which  does  not  belong  to  architecture  or  scu]i)ture. 
Representing  objects  on  a  plane  surface,  it  is  limited  to 
a  single  point  of  view.  But  this  defect  is  more  than 
counterbalanced  by  the  superior  advantages  of  the  art. 
For  while  it  is  unrestricted  in  regard  to  the  kind  of 
figures  with  which  it  deals,  its  i)ower  is  greatly  enhanced 
by  its  being  able  to  represent  these  in  their  native 
colours  and  in  all  the  setting  of  the  world  by  which  they 
are  surrounded  in  reality.      By  the  variety  of  its  figures, 


238 


11 


psychology. 


III  i 


fl" 


m 


"ith  greater  ^l^T^       '''"'  P''""""K  "  «"''owed 
11.  In  ww/r,— the  art  which  addresses  thp  ..r      .' 

spoken  of  as  an  ideT^ovetm".:  '""'  'r"""''"" 
"f  musical  gratifications  du;;Thv.h„?"  "'If- ""' 
•Ha.  is,  .he  separation  of  the  whole  ,>e  "  ""'!,  k"'' 
nn^cal  co„„  „,,„„  ;„,„  ,;:,^°:--    occup.ed  h,  a 

.ystenous,  for  it  presents  a  problem  which  is  very  fir 
Z^2TtT^  "'''^'-   ^'"  -  "^-  effect  sot 

apprSrtS  l^Xfn"  '' h"  '"^  '"""^"'  "  "^'• 
sta»e       It  ne^H  r,    I    ^         "^  '^'•'''^"s^'on  at  a  later 

.he  materiilof  „     '       ""  ""^^  "'^'  '™es  constitute 
o„„i     •         ,  piuuuct  or  the  same  inie  erfnnl 

ay  of  .ntcllect  and  feeling  stimulated  by  the  sL<;es.ions 
<>»  language.  But  literature  in  all  i,«  f  ^"ggeaions 
im">ediate  end   in  view    nalln    '  "■''"'  """' 

».em  or  exhortation  •  and  thet       ^  ""P"^'"""'  ^'S"" 
structed  (or  thrT'  ^^  artistically  it  is  con- 

tor  the  attainment  of  this  end,  the  more  nearly 


Idealisation, 


239 


does  it  appronch  the  character  of  poetry  from  the 
aesthetic  gratincation  with  which  the  end  is  secured. 
Accordingly,  the  descriptive  narratives  in  which  the  his- 
torian  makes  the  past  live  again  before  his  reader's 
imagination,  the  illustrations  by  which  the  scientific 
expositor  enables  us  to  see  throughout  the  world  the 
njanifold  operations  of  a  vast  natural  law,— all  such 
literary  achievements  are  the  source  of  an  artistic 
pleasure.  Even  a  well-connected  mathematical  demon- 
stration, or  a  bare  statement  of  scientific  facts  arranged 
into  clear  system,  may  possess  some  charm  of  art. 

Literature  is  not,  like  the  other  arts,  limited  to  the 
materials  of  a  single  sense.     Addressing  itself  directly  to 
the  mind  through  the  most  familiar  and  most  intelligible 
form  of  human  expression,  it  claims  for  its  use,  not  only 
the   materials   of   all  sensation,   but   every  feeling  and 
thought,  every  mental  state  and  act,  that  is  capable  of 
being  suggested   by  words.      It  cannot,  indeed,  repro- 
duce the  visual  aspects  of  a   remote  object  or  a  past 
scene  with  the  vividness  which  may  be  given  to  these  by 
painting  or  sculpture,  nor  can  it  stir  the  soul  with  the 
uncontrollable  emotions    which    music  excites;  but  its 
range  is    unrestricted  by  any  of  the  limintions  within 
which  these  arts  are  confined.     It  can  evsn,  by  what  has 
been  somewhat  significantly  named  word  painting,  pro- 
duce with  some  success  a  visual  image  of  what  is  distant 
in  space  or  time;  and  the  pictures,  thus  conjured  before 
the  imagination,  instead  of  being  limited  to  an  instan- 
taneous situation,  may  range  through  any  period,  and  be 
quickened  with  all  the  liveliness  of  movement,  of  change. 
It  can  also,  by  the  euphonious  combinations  of  language 
even  in  prose,  and  still  more  by  the  measured  euphony 
of  verse,   produce  a  certain    musical   effect;   while  by 
making  the  tones  of  Innnnn^f*  rmo   \r.  the  ir'-'— ^   cj 


240 


Psychology. 


%\ 


historical  events,  to  an  unfolding  chain  of  argument,  or 
lo  the  illustration  of  an  universal  truth,  it  can  enlist 
intellect  in  the  work  of  emotion,  and  direct  an  emotional 
outburst  to  its  aim  with  a  certainty  which  is  impossible 
under  the  vague  impulses  of  music. 

It   is    scarcely    necessary   to    add    that    the   artistic 
character  of  literary  composition  is  due  to  that  intellectual 
analysis  and  synthesis  which  are  the  source  of  all  art. 
Even    the  simplest   grammatical   syntax,   as    the    nnme 
mdicates,   implies    an  intelligent  discrinunation   oi   li.e 
parts  of  speech  and  their  combination  into  a  scnieiicc  ; 
while  the  term  composition,  which  is  couunonly  used,  not 
only  for  the  syntax  en  words  m  a  sentence,  but  for  the 
arrangement  of  sentences  in  the  treatment  of  an  extensive 
theme,    points   also    to    the    nature   of   the   intellectual 
operation  which  literary  work  involves.     The  experience 
of  the  literary  man  is  often  a  painful  illustration  of  the 
wearisome  toil  which  must  be  undergone  to  collect  his 
materials  and  marshal  them   in  an  order  intelligible  to 
himself  before  he  can  make  it  intelligible  to  his  readers; 
while  the  wearisome  toil,  which  unfortunately  a  reader 
must  often  undergo,  is  an  equally  painful  illustration  of 
failure,  on  the  part  of  the  literary  workman,  to  master  his 
materials  by  the  detailed   research   and  the  intelligible 
combination  necessary  to  artistic  work. 

The  remarks  in  this  section  have  been  of  necessity 
limited  mainly  to  the  aesthetic  consciousness  of  men  in 
general,  without  entering  at  length  on  the  specialised 
consciousness  of  the  artist.  The  importance  of  artistic 
production  in  human  life,  and  the  special  character  of 
the  culture  which  it  implies,  have  raised  the  subject  into 
the  rank  of  a  special  science.  For  the  technical 
examination  of  the  principles  of  art,  the  student  must 


Idealisation.  241 

consult  any  of  the  numerous  works  on  aesthetics  or  on 
the  several  arts. 

§  3. —  The  Ethical  Ideal. 

The  nature  of  volition  is  a  subject  reserved  for  discus- 
sion at  a  later  stage.  There  it  will  appear  that  a  volition 
is  a  self-conscious  act,— an  act  of  a  being  who  knows  what 
he  is  doing,  knows  the  end  which  his  act  is  designed  to 
attain.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  every  phenomenon 
in  human  life,  which  is  called  action,  answers  to  this 
description.  Many  so-called  actions  involve  no  conscious 
direction  towards  an  end.  Whether  or  not  such  pheno- 
mena can  in  strictness  be  called  actions,   they  are  not 

volitions  ;  and  therefore  a  volition  is  an  intelligent  act, 

an  act  directed  by  intelligence  of  an  end  to  be  reached. 

A-.  the  actions  of  men  are  various,  various  also  are  the 
ends    which    they  seek  to  attain.     But  as  the  end  is 
always   one    that  is  sought  by  an   intelligent  being,   it 
must    be    in    some    sort   adapted    to    his   intelligence. 
His    intelligence,    however,    can    take    cognizance,    not 
merely  of  the  end  to  be  attained  by  any  particular  action, 
but  also  of  the  remoter  consequences  which  are  linked 
with  that  end  by  an  indissoluble  chain  of  causation. 
Consequently,  every  being,  who  is  capable  of  intelligently 
directing  his  conduct,  governs  it  not  merely  by  purposes 
of  the  moment,  but  by  reference  to  results  of  far  larger 
scope.     It  is,  in  fact,  scarcely  possible  to  conceive  an 
intelligent  act  which  is  exhausted  in  its  immediate  end. 
Is  it  the  blow  of  a  hammer,  the  thrust  of  a  spade  into 
the  soil,  a  walk  from  one  point  to  another,  a  child's  exer- 
cise over  the  alphabet,   or  a  statesman's  address  to  a 
legislature  ?  the  meaning  of  all  such  acts  is  usually  ex- 
plained by  results  that  are  not  to  be  reached  for  hours, 
for  days,  or,  it  may  he,  for  years.     The  intelligent  agent. 


Nil 


¥ 


343 


Psychohgy. 


theref„re  ,eek,  a  rule  or  conduct  which  i,  of  per.n.menl 
vahic,  and  not  ....rcly  of  cphenRTal  use. 

But  the  intcMigont  rule  of  conduct  is  thu,  not  only 
I    ■.^.i.cncd  m  Ks  scope;  i,  is  also  «idcnc<l.      l,„r  ,|,e 

«uh  h,s  fellows;  and  consequently  he  fmds  that  his  con 

h  nsclf.      |1,„  „,eessary  reference  to  other,  inevitahly 
ex, .  nds  a,  ,loe,  the  nece,,nry  reference  ,0  his  indivi.lual 
cm.u,„,s,ances      As  hi,  intelligence  cannot  limit  itself  <o 
the  wants  01  the  u,o„,ent  in  seeking  a  rule  for  .he  guid- 
ance  of  h,s  comluct,  so  it  cannot  restrict  itself  by  a  re- 
gard for  a  hnmed  circle  of  other  person,,  to  the  <lisregard 
|.  al  ou,s,de      The  same  in.perious  necessity,  which  de- 
».    uls  of  the  mtelhgent  being,  that  his  conduct  shall  1« 
:melhgent,  refuse,  .0  let  him  rest  content  with  any  rule 
wluch  ,s  of  limited  applicntion  to  himself  or  ,0  other,. 
It  ..  not  m  accordance  with  the  clain.s  of  intelligence,  it 
»  not  reas.,na.,le,  that  any  one  mon  cr.t,  or  anv  one  per! 
son,  shoidd  alone  be  considered  in  .-.ct.ng.     The  intelli- 
gent  .ngent  therefore,  finds  satisfaction  only  in  a  rule  of 
condMc.  wl„ch  is  of  universal  appli.ation.-a  rule  giving 
h       an  a„„  for  one  moment  which  i,  not  discordan' 
«.lh  the  a,ms  of  any  other,-an  aim  for  him,elf  which 
does  not  conflict  with  the  aim,  of  other  person,.     This 
•H  that  absolutely  harmonious  end,-that  realisation  of 
universal  law  .n  the  particular  ac,,_which  constitute,  the 
ethical  ideal. 

The  preceding  remarks  are  not,  of  course,  to  be  taken 
as  an  exhaustive  analysis  of  the  ethical  consciousness. 
Ih.s  mental  state  abv.ays  involve,  an  element  of  feeling, 
wh,ch  „  not  only  often  predo„,inant,  but  even  at  times 
cmpletely  submerges  the  intellectual  factor.  The  na- 
ture of  the  moral  feeling,  will  come  under  consideration 


Idealisation.  243 

agftin  ;  but  even  the  intellectual  side  of  the  moral  con- 
8<:iousness  must  not  be  supposed  to  be  exhausted  in  the 
above  analysis.  The  analysis  brings  out  one  feature  of 
the  rule  which  the  moral  consciousness  seeks  for  the 
guidance  of  action  ;  it  shows  that  that  rule  is  one  of  uni- 
versal  application.  But  this  is  a  mere  form,  t)  which 
specific  contents  must  be  supplied.  For  we  are  not  told 
what  end  is  that  which  can  be  universally  prescribed  for 
human  conduct.  Is  it  pleasure  or  perfection,  is  it  respect 
for  self  or  respect  for  others,  is  it  the  will  of  the  Infinite 
Being,  or  the  laws  of  nature,  or  the  conditions  of  success 
in  the  struggle  for  existence?  These  are  quest:.-  ..s  which 
need  not  be  discussed  here ;  they  carry  us  beyond  psy. 
chology  into  the  domain  of  ethics. 

But,  in  addition,  it  must  be  observed  that  the  above 
analysis  brings  out  mainly  the  pure  form  0/  the  moral 
consciousness,— the  form  towards  which  the  evolution  ot 
that  consciousness  tends.    The  process  of  evolution,  how- 
ever, both  in  the  individual  and  in  communities,  reveals 
many  impure  or  imperfect  forms  in  ordinary  mental  life. 
A  great  part  of  history  is  necessarily  devoted  to  tracing 
the  development  of  this  consciousness  towards  its  ideal 
universality,  as  well  as  the  eifect  of  such  development 
on  the  institutions  and  customs  of  communities;  while 
general  literature  derives  much  of  its  interest  ..nd  pathos 
from  its  pictures  of  the  infinitely  varied  stages  of  moral 
culture,  and  of  the  tragic  or  comic  results  which  these 
produce  in  human  life.     For  as  this  consciousness  is  the 
authoritative  controller  of  conduct,  we  have  in  it  the 
most  potent  influence  in  giving  a  permanent  character  to 
the  organisation  of  society.      Accordingly,  in  our  social 
institutions,— in  the  family,  in  the  State,  \n  international 
law,  in  the  Church  itself  considered  as  a  corporation  of 
jj...     „.„  „„y^  -.^  ujajijr  icaiisea  expressions. 


244 


Psychology, 


more  or  less  perfect,  of  the  moral  consciousness.  These 
institutions,  however,  are  of  such  importnnce  m  human 
life,  that  they  form  the  subjects  of  separate  sciences;  and 
for  further  discussion  of  them  the  student  must  be  referred 
to  philosophical  jurisprudence  and  politics. 


§  A'— The  Religious  Ideal 


ii:L.„ 


The  ideals,  examined  in  the  three  preceding  sections, 
all  indicate  the  tendency  of  intelligence,  as  it  develops,* 
to  seek  the  universal  in  the  particular,  to  interpret  the 
particular  in  the  light  of  the  universal.       In  its  purely 
speculative  activity  the  aim  is  simply  to  Yx,o^,~scimus 
ut  s€iamus,~^N\\.\^o^^\.  reference  to  any  ulterior  end,— any 
application  of  the   knowledge   obtained;    and   of  this 
activity,   as  has    been   seen,   the   ultimate  ideal  is  the 
harmony  of  each  particular  knowledge  with   universal 
intelligence,    that   is,    its    comprehension   in   one    self- 
consciousnf  ss.     In  the  practical  activity  of  intelligence, 
as  explained  in  last  section,  the  aim  is  one  ulterior  to 
mere  knowledge,— jr/w«j  ut  oJ>eremur,~viQ  make  use  of 
our  knowledge  as  a  rule  cf  conduct;  and  of  this  activity 
the  ultimate  ideal  was  shown  to  be  the  harmony  of  each 
pxrticular  rule  with  universal  practical  intelligence,  or, 
in  other  words,  the  comprehension  of  all  rules  in  one 
self-consciousness.    Besides  the  speculative  and  practical 
activities  of  intelligence,  the  second  section  explained 
another  activity,  which  has  no  interest  of  a  speculative 
or  of  a  practical  kind  in  view,  the  ultimate  end  of  which 
is,  in  short,   noth'ng   beyond   the  play  of  intelligence 
itself.      The  beauty,  which  is  the  ideal  of  this  activity, 
implies    the    harmony    of   each    particular    object    of 


Idealisation. 


245 


intellectual  play  with  universal  intelligence,  tliat  is,  the 
comprehension  of  all  in  one  self-consciousness. 

These  various  forms  of  idealisation  are  thus  found  to 
harmonise  in  so  far  as  they  all  imply  in  the  individual 
intelligence  a  reference  to  an  universal  intelligence ;  and 
every  advance  to  a  larger  truth,  to  a  fairer  beauty,  to  a 
more  perfect  rule  of  life,  is  an  evidence  of  the  aspiration 
of  the  individual  towards  the  standpoint  of  the  universal 
mind.  When  this  aspiration  becomes  an  explicit  fact  of 
consciousness,  it  form.;  the  religious  spirit  in  man  ;  and 
its  ideal  is  therefore  that  Universal  Mind,  in  whom  all 
the  speculative  and  practical  and  aesthetic  ideals  of  the 
human  consciousness  are  realised. 

This   sketch  is  not,  of  course,  given  as  a  complete 
analysis  of  the  religious  consciousness,  any  more  than 
the  analysis  in  the  preceding  section  was  supposed  to 
exhaust  the  contents  of  the  moral  consciousness.     Like 
the  moral  conscic '  -ness,  the  religious  consciousness  al^o 
contains   a  large  emotional   element ,  and    the   various 
forms  of  emotion,  which  enter  into  its  structure,  will  be 
noticed  at  another  time.      In    its    historical   evolution, 
moreover,   the  religious   consciousness  undergoes  even 
stranger  modificalions  than  the  moral  consciousness  ;  and 
its  influence  upon  the  life  of  men, — on  the  recluse  as 
well  as  on  the  man  of  the  world,  on  commercial  enter- 
prise as  well  as  on  sc.ools  of  thought,  on  social  customs 
and  political  institutions,— has  been   among  the    most 
extensive  and  permanent  of  the  forces,  by  which  human 
history  is  moulded.     For  whatever  may  be  decided,  on 
more  accurate  inquiry,  with  regard  to  a  few  savage  tribes, 
which  are  said  to  be  without  any  form  of  religious  belief, 
and  though  it  is  claimed  for  some  speculative  minds, 
that  they  are  uninfluenced  by  religious  ideas,  yet  no  nation 
withoL^  religious  institutions  has  ever  taken  a  prominent 


'ill 


I  i; 


14  l;^ 


246 


Psycholosf, 


place  m  the  world's  history ;  and  there  does  not  «e,„ 

therefore,  .0  be  any  normal  human  development,  wh'ch 

does   not   evolve   some   consciousness  of   the   KhlZ 

between  .he  finite  mind  and  the  Infinite.     The  m    2^ 

mfluences  of  th,s  consciousness  must  be  traced  either  n 

-vorks  >  h>ch  treat  of  history  in  general,  or  in  the  specill 

h.stones  of  religion.     Here  we  deal  ;ith  th      e  ,£ 

onsc,o.s„ess  merely  as  a  fact  in  the  mental  life  of  men 

he  true  mterpretation  of  this  fact,  its  validity  as  evt 

lence  of  any  objective  reality,  is  a  problem  whfch  takes 

sulct'of  fh!  ''T  "'  "^^'■'"■"S^-    ^"  f-'-  ">e  whole 
subject  of  the  religious  consciousness  opens  up  a  vast 

range  of  other  than  psychological  nuestions,  which  are  o 
such  importance  as  to  constitute  a  separate  science  or 
rather  the  cyclopedia  of  separate  sciences  known  u^'d" 
ihe  name  of  tbeo»rr^. 


}'< 


>;  !i 


Illusory  Cognitions. 


247 


CHAPTER  V, 


^  ILLUSORY  COGNITIONS. 

A   N  illusion,  as  the  name  implies,  is  a  state  of  con- 
J^^     sciousness,  in  which,  though  apparently  informed 
cne  is  no    really  so,   but  is  rather  played  with,   made 
sport   of,    befooled.      It   is  true,  the  term  is  used  by 
some   writers   in   a   more  restricted   sense    which   will 
be  noticed  immediately;   bu^  the  more  general  appli- 
cation continues  to  hold  its  ground,  while  it  is  more 
accordant  with  the  etymology  of  the    rord.     It  will  at 
least  be  found   convenient  to  describe  as   illusory  all 
those  mental  states,  which  simulate  the  appearance  of 
knowledge  without  giving  us  repl  information.     In  dis- 
cussing these  phenomena  we  shall,    first  of  all,   make 
some  remarks  on  their  general  nature  and  classifi'cation 
then  describe  and  explain  some  of  the  most  familiar' 
such  as  dreams.  ' 

§  I — Illuaions  in  General, 

Illusory  cognitions  may  be  distinguished  according  to 
the  sources  from  which  they  arise.  These  are  three 
Sometimes  it  is  the  senses  that  are  at  fault  in  creating 
the  Illusory  impression.  At  other  times  the  mistake 
originates  in  an  intellectual  process  erroneously  interpret- 
ing a  normal  impression  of  sense ;  while  in  a  third  class 
of  cases  the  error  lies  wholly  in  an  irregular  intellectual 


248 


Psychology, 


si 

f 


i'  :i!   \ 


proresfj.      To  the  first  of  tlicsc  mciitnl  states  the  nnme 
/lallnntuilion  is  often  given  by  recent  i)S\ eholonj.sts  ;  the 
third  comprehends  the ///A/.-vVj  coninicnly  described  in 
logical  text  books;  while  for  the  second  the  term  illusion 
is  sometimes  specilically  reserved.      Tiiis  distinction   is 
one  which  cnnnot  always  be  rigidly  carried  out.      The 
hallucinations,   arising  from   the  abnormal   activities  of 
sense,  merge  imperceptibly  at  times   into  the  illusions 
which  imply  a  misinterpretation  of  sensuous  impressions; 
and  these  again  are  often  indistinguishable  from  fallacious 
processes  of  reasoning.     'J'jie  fallacies  may  be  here  left 
out  of  account,  as  they  form  a  doctrine  specially  reserved 
for  logic,  and  appropriately  treated  as  a  subsidiary  ilhis- 
tration  of  logical  rules.     We  shall   endeavour  to  reach 
some  outline  of  the  i^henomcna  compiehended  under 
halhicinntions  and  illusions,  in  the  strictest  sense  of  these 
terms. 

(A)  Ilalluanntions  originate  in  the  raw  materials  of 
knowledge,  in  the  fact  that  the  mind  is  furnished  with 
erroneous  data.  They  imply,  therefore,  so-  le  abnormal 
excitation  of  sense.  Sensations  of  the  same  kind  as 
those  which  are  normally  excited  by  external  objects, 
may  sometimes  be  abnormally  excited  when  no  objec  t  is 
real'y  jiresent  Many,  if  not  most,  of  the  phenomena 
designated  apeches  or  opf>an lions  may  be  ascribed  to 
this  source.  An  object  may  apf^ear  in  consciousness 
either  when,  or  when  not,  actually  ])r^sent ;  in  other 
words,  the  aijpearance  may  be  either  real  or  unreal.  A 
spectre  or  api)arition  is  an  unreal  appearance. 

Plere  will  be  evident  the  difticulty  of  regarding  halluci- 
nations as  due  to  sense  alone;  for  whenever  an  ol)ject, 
even  though  imaginary,  is  created  out  of  sensations,' 
whether  normal  or  abnormal,  an  intellectual  activity  is 
implied.     Still  hallucinations  imply  that  the  sensibility  ij 


Witsory  Cognitions.  249 

at  fault,  and  we  must  trace  the  source  of  its  abnormal 
excitements.  These  must  be  referred  to  conditions  in 
the  organs  of  sense.  Now,  such  conditions  are  reducible 
to  two  heads,-the  limitation  or  the  variation  of  the  sen- 
sibihty  of  an  organ. 

I.  The  sensibihiy  of  the  organs  is  limiled  in  space  in 
time,  and  in  degne.  ' 

I.  Organs  are  limited  in  regard  to  space  by  the  extent 
to  which  the  subdivision  of  their  nerve-fibres  is  carried 
Resulting  from  this  some  illusory  impressions  were 
noticed  in  treating  the  sense  of  touch.  Thus,  at  an  ob- 
tuse part  of  the  skin  two  points  may  be  felt  as  merely 
one;  and  on  an  acute  part  the  distance  of  two  points 
api)ears  greater  than  on  an  obtuse  part. 

a.  'J'he  limitation  of  sensibility  in  time  arises  f'-om  ihti 
facts  that  an  impression  must  endure  a  certain  length  of 
lime  to  excite  consciousness  at  all,  and  that  it  tends  to 
endure  a  ccitain  length  of  time  before  it  can  be  supplant- 
ed by  another. 

{a)  Of  the  first   fact   numerous   instances   have   been 
furnished  in  the  phenomena  of  instantaneous  suggestion 
resulting  from    nvariable  association,  which  play  surh  a 
I^roinment  part  in  forming  many  of  the  fami.iar  percep- 
tions, especially  of  sight. 

{b)  Of  the  sec(;nd  A^ct  examples  vary  in  the  different 
senses.  It  was  shown  that  the  less  intellectual  senses  do 
not  recover  rapidly  from  the  effect  of  an  impression,  their 
inferior  uitellcctual  capacity  in  fact  consisting  in  this  slow 
recuperative  power.  It  is  in  consequence  of  this,  for 
example,  that  tastes  cannot  be  readily  distingui  bed  in 
quick  succession.  Sights,  sounds,  and  touches  on  the 
other  hand,  were  shown  to  be  easily  distinguishable,  even 
when  simultaneous;  but  this  is  the  case  only  when  tl:e 
intensity  of  these  sensations  is  c,^  th.t  n.^n— »^  h «» 


250 


Mi, 


J- 


11 


if, 


Psychology, 


wh.ch  intellectual  processes  require.     When  an  impres- 
s.on  ,s  unusually  strong,  it  is  apt  to  produce  one  or  othei 
of  two  effects ;  it  either  deadens  the  sensibility,  or  it  en- 
dures after  ,ts  external  cause  is  removed,  mingling  with 
other  nnpressions  that  immediately  supervene      Of  the 
former  effect  a  curious  example  is  found  in  the  pheno- 
mena called  spectra.     When  the  eye  has  been  intently 
fixed  on  any  object  of  some  brilliance,  on  its  being  with- 
drawn  we  are  apt  to  see,  after  a  short  interval,  an  ima^e 
of  the  object  in  complementary  colours,  as  if  the  sen^i- 
b.hty  of  the  eye  to  the  natural  colours  of  the  object  had 
been  exhausted.    Thus,  a  red  object  leaves  an  after-image 
or   spectrum   of   bluish-green    colour;    a    white   object 
against  a  black  gnnmd  is  succeeded  by  a  spectrum  of 
dark  hue  agamst  a  light  ground.*     The  other  effect  here 
noticed,-.the  fusion  of  sensations  in  rapid  succession  - 
IS  most  easily  produced  in  the  case  of  unusually  powerful 
impressions,    but   shows   itself  also  when  these  are  of 
moderate  strength,  as  illustrated  by  the  thaumatrope  and 
other  optical  toys  leferred  to  above.f     In  explaining  the 
production  of  tones,  moreover,  it  was  shown  that  some 
forty  vibrations  in  a  second  form  the  limit  of  the  discri. 
minatjve  power  of  the  ear. 

3-  From  the  preceding  remarks  it  is  implied  that  the 
sensibility  has  a  limit  in  regard  to  intensity.  As  already 
explained.^  such  a  limit  forms  a  condition  both  of  sensi- 
bihty  and  of  the  discrimination  of  sensations.  As  a  con- 
dition  of  sensibiUiy  the  limit  of  intensity  is  two-fold,  on 
the  side  of  excess  as  well  as  of  defect.     For  not  only  is 


h  1.  V'7  ^""  ",''?""^  °f  "'^''^  phenomena  will  be  found  in  Ilcl.n. 
holtz  s  F/o'stoloo,sche  Optik,  pp.  2>Zl-2,^(>, 

t  Book  i.,  Part  ii.,  Chapter  i.,  §  2. 

X  Book  i.,  Part  1.,  Chapter  i.,  §  2. 


Illusory  Cognitions.  251 

a  certain  strength  of  stimulus  necessar-  to  produce  any 
sensation,  but  a  certain  weakness  also.  An  excessively 
strong  stimulus,  or  one  continued  long,  either  deadens 
the  sensibility,  as  we  have  seen,  or  destroys  at  least  the 
special  sensibility  of  ihe  organ  affected,  supplanting  it  by 
some  general  sensation  of  pain.  A  certain  difference  of 
intensity  is  also  necessary  to  the  discrimination  of  sensa- 
tions ;  and  this  is  the  difference  which  an  attempt  has 
been  made  to  formulate  in  a  psychophysical  law. 

II.  But  not  only  is  there  a  limitation  of  the  sensibility ; 
it  is  also  subject  to  variations  that  are  dependent  on 
numerous  conditions.  This  variation  is  noticeable  both 
in  the  degree  and  in  the  kind  of  sensibility  which  an 
organ  displays. 

I.  The  sensibility  may  be  either  exa'ted  or  lowered  in 
degree. 

{a)  The  exaltation  of  sensibility,  which  is  technically 
called    hypercBsthesia,   is   due    to   various    causes.      In 
health  it  is  the  common  and  valuable  effect  of  attention 
directed  to  any  organ  or  its  sensations.     The  reinvigora- 
tion  also,  derived  from  rest,  especially  from  sleep,  com- 
municates a  healthy  heightening  of  the  sensibility ;  and 
it  is  perhaps  largely  due  to  this  that,  for  example,  the 
morning  seems  to  impart  an  increased  brightness  to  the 
colouring  of  nature.     Sometimes  the  heightened  sensi- 
bility of  an  organ  is  due  to  the  semi-morbid  state  of  ex- 
cessive fatigue,  while  its  more  abnormal  causes  are  to  be 
found  in  morbid  nervous  conditions  like  hypnotism  or 
those  induced  by  the  numerous  stimulants  and  poisons 
which  act  on  the  nerves.     It  would  take  us  too  far  into 
the  special  pathology  of  mind,  were  we  to  enter  on  a  de- 
tailed account  of  the   hallucinations   arising  from   this 
source. 

(.'/  The  opposite  effect,  a  depressed   sensibility,  has 


I  ii- 


Mm 


m  ■ 


I 


i!i 


? 


251 


Psychology, 


been  less  appropriately  called  ancEsthesia.  TIic  discussion 
of  it  also  belongs  to  the  pathology  of  mind  ;  for  its  efTcrts 
are  among  the  most  familiar  hallucinations  of  mental 
disease. 

2.  There,  are,  however,  also  certain  variations  in  the 
kind  of  sensibihty  which  an  organ  may  exhibit.  Thus  in 
the  eye  there  is  frequently  met  the  chronic  deficiency 
called  colour  blindness,  while  it  is  also  subject  to  such 
well-known  temporary  derangements  as  that'produced  by 
jaundice.  In  the  ear,  also,  there  occurs  a  defect  which, 
by  its  analogy  with  colour-blindness,  might  be  called 
tone-deafness.*  For  such  alterations  of  sensibility  the 
name /<//v/'y///^j7V/  has  been  suggested. 

The  conditions  of  the  sensibility,  which  originate  hal- 
lucinations, are  thus  found  to  be  various.     They  are  by 
no  means  confined  to  disease ;  occasionally  remarkable 
hallucinations  surprise  persons  in  sound  health.      The 
general  soundness  of  health  in  such  cases  is  evidenced 
by  the  fact  that  the  patient  is  not  deceived  by  the  hal- 
lucinations, but  sometimes  even  holds  them  under  such 
complete  control  as  to  make  them  come  and  go  at  will. 
Thus  Earl  Grey  used  to  be  haunted  by  the  vision  of  a 
gory  head,  which  vanished,  however,  at  his  bidding.     It 
is  generally  difficult,  often   impossible,  to  discover  any 
explanation  of  these  hallucinations  in  sane  life  ;  but  the 
difficulty  is  obviously  due  to  our  ignorance  of  all  the 
circumstances  in  which  the  patient   happened  to  be  at 
the  time.     It  may  be  fairly  conjectured,  however,  that  in 
such  cases  there  must  be  some  peculiar  discharge  of  ner- 
vous energy,  arising  from  an  emotional  outburst  or  a 
volitional  effort,   which   the    patient    may   never  have 


•  See  observations  by  Mr.  G.  Allen  on  a  case  of  this  defect  ia 
Mind  for  April,  iSyS. 


Illusory  Cognitions. 


353 


dreamt  of  connecting  with  the  hallucination,  or  perhapr, 
from  sonif^  consliliitionnl  tendency  of  which  he  may  be 
ignorant.    But  if  we  cannot  generally  discover  the  stinm- 
lating   cause   of  hallucinations,   it   is  f)ften   jiossible  to 
account  for  the  pecuhar  form  they  assume,      ''his  form 
depends  on   the  sense  that  is  affected  by  some  cause, 
known  or  unknown.    Now,  the  sense  is  often  determined 
by  a  person's  habits.     Thus,  a  painter  generally  sees  hal- 
lucinations, while  a  musician  hears  them.*      Sometimes 
in  the  heat  of  composition  Dickens  heard  his  characters 
speak  ;  t  and  Taine   mentions  that  the  French  novelist, 
(lustave    Flaubert,    while    wii.ing    the    story    of   ICmma 
Bovary's  poisoning  by  arsenic,  became  twice  so  veritably 
sick  as  to  vomit  his  dinner.  J    From  the  fact  that  most  of 
our  in^   .jssionsof  the  real  world  are  received   ihrough 
the  sense  of  sight,  it  might  be  sup^-.c-iJ  that  most  hallu- 
cinations must  be  visual  ;  but  it  is  questicmable  whether 
auditory  hallucinations  are   not  more  fiecjuent.      'I'here 
are  strong  reasons  for  believing  that  such  Is  the  case,  at 
least  in  disease  ;§  and,  though  the  reverse  is  said  to  hold 
good  in  health,  yet  this  assertion   seems  by  no  means 
established.il     Professor  Huxley  states  that  to  him  hallu- 
cinations of  hearing  are  more  common  than  visual  appari- 
tions ;  \  and  the  experience  of  many  others  will  probably 
be  found  to  accord  with  his  in  this  respect. 

Though  there  are  many  hallucinations  of  ordinary  life 


•  Wundt's  Physiolo<]ische  Psycholo'^ie,  Vol.  ii.,  p.  354  (2nd  ed.). 

+  Maudsley's  Physioioii)'  of  the  Mhni,  p.  293. 

X  Taine's  De  r Intelligence,  Vol.  i.,  p.  90  (4lh  ed,). 

§  Maudsley's  Pathology  of  Mimi,  pp.  371*6. 

II  Sully's  Illusions,  p.  iig,  note. 

K  Elementary  Lessons  in  Physiology',  p.  267, 


254 


Psychohsy, 


which 


c:\. 


nnot  lie  nrcountod  for,  yet  there  are  ah 


liilc. 


,1  ^     .  '  / "■'-  "•«-  iiinu  many 

the  soiuyc  of  wh,<h  is  obvious.      In  next  section  it  will 
.'M>pcar  that  the  pecuhar  halh.oinations  of  dreanmig  often 
aUjnUof  being  traced  to  their  source;  and  in  fact  the 
HalhK.nat.ons  of  waking  life  are  son,etin,es  evidently  the 
slowly  tadmg   residues  of  a  dream,   the  excitement  of 
nerve   bemg  prolonged   even   after  the  real  world  has 
l;'oken  m  upon  consciousness.       Dr.  Abercrombie  men^ 
tions  the  case  of  a  man  who,  while  sitting  up  late  one 
evening,  fell  asleep,  and  had  an  unpleasant  dream,  in 
which  a  hulowus  baboon  ngured.    Startled  into  complete 
wakefulness,  he  walked  to  the  middle  of  the  room,  where 
he  continued  to  see  the  baboon  against  the  wall  for  about 
half  a  minute.*   After  wakening  in  the  middle  of  a  dream 
1  have  somctunes  amused  myself  by  dwelling  upon  the 
vanishmg  droam-figures  which  retained  almost  the  vivid- 
ness of  reality  for  some  minutes,  provided   the  eyelids 
w'ere  kept  closed.!     It  will  probably  be  found  that  most 
of  the  common  hallucinations,  whether  of  hearing  or  of 
sight,  experienced  by  persons  in  ordinary  health,  come  at 
those  moments  of  deep  reverie,  which  approach  in  char- 
acter  the  condition  of  sleep. 

Although  many  hallucinations  of  ordinary  waking  life 
do  not  obtrude  any  definice  peculiarity  of  nerve  to 
account  for  them,  yet  in  most  cases  which  have  been 
subjected  to  careful  investigation  the  patient's  health  has 
furnished  some  explanatory  fact.  Thus,  a  gentleman 
who  was  subject  to  epileptic  fits,  and  therefore  to  some 


•  Abercroinbie's  Inquiries  Comeming  the  IntelUtNal  Powers 
p.  27i{(i3ihed.). 

t  A  similar  surviva)  of  dream-images  after  wakins  has  been  ob- 
^rved  by  Spinoza  (Opera,  Vol.  ii..  p.  2.6.  ed.  Bruder),  and  by  Dr 
Maudsley  (JVijs'o/o^  of  the  Mnid,  p.  292,  nute). 


lUitsoiy  Cognitions.  255 

painful  disorder  in  the  I.rain,  found  his  Mtncks  generally 
preceded  l,y  the  spectre  of  a  little  woman  in  a  red  elo.k 
striking  him  on  the  head  with  a  cnitrh.*      A  lady  on 
being  attacked  with  an  acute  inllannnation  in  her 'kit 
side,  saw  the  traditional  skelelon-f.gure  of  Death  strike 
at  her  diseased  side  with  a  dart.f     Dr.   Maudsley  men- 
tions an  analogous  hallucination  of  smell.     A'gcntleunn 
of  perfectly  sound  mind  in  other  respects  was  tormented 
by  the  apparently  groundless  fancy  that  he  was  a  source  of 
annoyance  to  all  his  friends  and  neighbours  by  reason  of 
a  horrible  odour  emitted  from  his  person.      After  some 
months  an  abscess   formed  on  the  lower   part   of  the 
sternum,   mdicaling  the  growth  of  some  latent  disease 
which  had  probably  been  the  source  of  the  "subjective 
odour."!     It  may,  therefore,  be  inferred  that  even  those 
hallucmatums  of  ordinary  life,  which  are  seemingly  the 
most  inexplicable,  would  yield  the  secret  of  their  origin 
to  a  thorough  scientific  investigation.     That  the  explana- 
tion of  these  hallucinations  merely  requires  to  wait  for 
further  knowledge  of  the  persons  interested,  is  strikingly 
evinced  by  a  fact  connected  with  the  history  of  Dr  Aber- 
rrombie's  work  on  the  Intellectual  Pmvers.   In  the  earlier 
editions  an  account  is  given  of  some  inexplicable  hallu- 
cinations,  to  which  a  gentleman  of  sound  mind  was  sub- 
j^-'ct ;  but  between  the  fourth  and  fifth  editions  of  the 
work  the   development  of  a  serious  cerebral   disorder 
clearly  indicated  the  source  of  the  hallucinations.§ 

(B)  Illusions  are  distinguished  from  hallucinations  by 
the  fact,  that  in  the  former  the  senses  are  not  at  fault 
the  Illusory  effect  arising  solely  from  the  erroneous  in' 


•  Ahercrombie's  IntellecUial  Powers,  p.  284. 
t  Maudsley  Pathology  of  Mind,  pp.  376.7. 
8  See  p.  276.  13th  ed. 


ilbid.,  p.  286. 


I 


in 


11?! 


!  '';  .;( 


!\ 


iSi  |i 


256 

iclltrtiial 


Psycholofj. 


process  which  misinterprets  a  norma!  Im- 
1^  c-,oM  of  sense.  In  the  f.rst  chapter  of  thi«  Part 
wh,  c  .nus.rnfng  the  formation  of  ordinary  ,  crc.pticns' 
we  have  had  such  numerous  opportunitic.of  nLvin.: 
'^'"i  expla.nmg  .Ih.sory  cognitions  of  this  sort,  that  it  is 
unnecessary  to  dwell  upon  them  at  further  length  here. 
NNc  may  accordmoly  p,occed  to  describe  some  (.f  the 
most  lam.har  slates  of  consciousness,  in  which  hallucina- 
tions and  illusions  hold  sway. 

§  a. — Drtaming, 

Among  the  facts  of  our  mental  life,  which  derive  their 
peculiar  character    from    being    composed    mainly   of 
illusory  cogn.t.  ns,  a  pro.ninent  ,)lace  must  be  assigned 
10  dreams;  and  the  analysis  of  these  will  be  found  to 
furn.sh   the  fundamental   principles,    on   which  a  large 
i^'unber  of  others  should  be  explained.      In  the  analysis 
of  dreannng  it  will  be  of  some  advantage  to  describe  the 
distinctive  peculiarities  of  the  state,  before  prc.ceed.n.r  to 
indicate  the  psychological  principles  which  furnish  their 
scientilic  explanation. 

(A)  The  peculiarities  which  commonly  distinguish 
dream-fancies  from  those  of  waking  life,  are  two.  ^The 
first  IS  the  fantastic  combination  of  circumstances  by 
vynich  dreams  are  usually  characterised  ;  the  second  is 
the  nresisiible  appearance  of  their  reality. 

I.  The  tormer  of  these  is  so  obtrusive  a  characteristic 
of  dreaming,  that  in  our  waking  life  any  imj>rol,able 
fanc)  is  very  commonly  described  as  a  dream.  All  tl  e 
ordinary  probabilities  of  the  real  world,  whether  founded 
on  internal  character  or  external  circumstances,  are  set 
at  naught  in  the  world  of  dreams.  Here  the  coward 
achieves  deeds  of  heroic  courage,  while  the  brave  man  is 


Illusory  Cop-vitiomt, 


257 


mortified   by  the   meanness  of  his  poltroonery.      The 
guilty  sometimes  dream  of  an   innocence  which  is  un- 
happily utiknown  to  them  in   real   life,  while  the  pure 
mind  is  shocked  at  times  by  dreaming  f)f  being  seduced 
into  the  most  improbable  sins.     The  untravelled  lover 
of  domestic  comforts  often  spends  his  nights  in  wander- 
ing over  the  face  of  the  earth,  while  the  restless  wanderer 
settles  down  to  the  quiet  routine  of  home.     The  man, 
who  in  the  real  world  was  never  kiown  to  be  guilty  of 
an  eccentric  action,  rides  in  his  sleep  along  the  edge  of 
preri|)ices,  seats  himself  on  dizzy  pinnacles,  rushes  into 
mad  encounters  with  wild  beast  ,,  and  exposes  himself  to 
all  sorts  of  ridiculously  needltrK?  dangers.     In  like  man- 
ner there  arc  no  external  rcstrictioni — no  obstacles  of 
time  or  space— in  the  world  of  dreams.     A  few  seconds 
tarry  us  round  the  globe  ;  and  the  events  of  years  may 
be  \  icked  into  a  single  night,  or  even  into  a  few  minutes. 
Persons  who  are  separated  by  a  hemisphere  in  space,  or 
fcveo  by  centuries  in  time,  enter  into  familiar  intercourse 
in  the  dreamer's  society  ;  and  those  friends,  who  have 
long  ago  passed  beyond  the  veil,  dc^\^end  to  him  from 
the  spirit-world  as  readily  as  they  are  supposed  to  come 
for  the  purpose  of  rapping  upon  tables  rt  a  spiritualistic 
s'eance.     We  pass  from  place  to  place  ii".  our  dreams  as  if 
we  were  charmed  by  the  cap  of  Fot anatus  or  shod  in 
'hree-league-boots  ;  we  spurn  all  ordinary  modes  of  loco- 
motion,  for  we  can   float    through   the  atmosphere   as 
easily  as  if  aerial  navigation  were  no  longer  among  the 
problems  which  have  yet  to  be  solved.     Whether  in  its 
pleasanter  or  in   its   sadder   aspects,  the   conditions  of 
human  life  are  extravagantly  exaggerated  in  our  dreams. 
They  make  us  drink  at  times  a  draught  of  horror  which 
is  happily  too  large  for  the  measured  cup  of  actual  woe  ; 
and  they  L.ichant  us  again  by  the  revelation  of  ecstasies 


ii 


ii! 


2$^ 


Psyrhofnff^*, 


w 


Mrli  tnnsrcnd  In  honuty  nnd 


of  human  iif( 


in  joy  t?ic  sober  rrn! 


itics 


« 0,1.1  vl„.-l    ,s  g„vcrn«l  l.y  laws  of  its  own.     Ti,e  o„lv 
-vs  wluch  he  ,.n„„„t  set  asiue  are  the  laws  of  h^       "^ 

r:,n  ;;:.':  ;""t  """«■■ -'pposed  essential .:: 

da,,n,  that  u  shouKl  ,««sess   tim  fantastic   character 

In  fan,,  ar  exper,en,e,  .hean.s  are  often  marred  by  To 

mprohah,hty  wl,ich  wouUI  render  then    i„,,  J  iWe  Z 

0.1  events.     This  fact,  thcgh  a.  hr,  sigl,t  „p,,ar  ,  ,  y  a 

d.1  cul.y  ,n  any  theory  of  drean.s,  will  bt  fon^i  to  .a  It 

m  thcr  expl.ination. 

n.  The  second  characteristic  of  dreams  is  the  irre- 

irer"  tt, : ,;  nt  ""■n;!-^'™"'  ';^  •^">'  '""-'""^'i'v! 

wh .    '  J  "■;■-'""•'''  ''^ '"°  ••"'^'■"■"""^  f^'«».  both  of 

«1«<I.    nre   fam.ha,    in    the    e.v|,c,ience   of    nearly   aU 
dre.a,,,ers.     Th     first  is  the  fact  that  often,  a    t     'rea 
world  bre.ks  ,„  upon  the  nriddle  of  a  drc  nn,  we  find 
ourselves  ,n  doubt  for  a  mo.nent  whether  the  dTea,,  is 
no.  a  real„y-in  other  wor.ls,  which  is  the  dream  world 
"■^.ch  the  ,eal.     .Analogous  to  this  is  the  other  fact   t  nt' 
often  a  ,eal  event,  especially  if  it  has  been  of  an    xt  a 
ord,nary  character,  seen.s  long  afterwards  like  a  dream  • 
and,  indeed,  most  n,en  have  probably  been  in  doubt  at 
nnes  w,th  reference  ,o  some  such  evem,  whet   'r       ; 
a  drea,n  ora  reality. 

The  same  remark,  however,  which  was  made  about 

he  for,„er  pecul,ar,ty  of  dreams,  „,ust  also  qualify  this  • 

the  appearance  of  reality  is    by   no   means   absolute  y' 

essent,al  to  a  dream  ;  sometimes  we  are  conscious  ,       a 

<lream  ,s  unreal.     This  apparent  a.o.naly,   instead  o( 


Illusory  Cognitions,  259 

being  a  dimculiy,  will  be  found  rather  to  assist  in  the 
exf)Iunation  of  dreams. 

(H)  In  proceeding  to  such  an  explanation  it  is  rlrsir- 
able  to  bear  m  mind  that  the  course  of  thought  in  sleep 
ns  well  as   m  waking  hours  is  governed  by  the  laws  of 
association.     If  you  fancy  any  event  or  scene  in  a  day. 
dream   .ts  detail   must  a.i    be  suggested  in  accordance 
with  these  laws  ;  and  so  arc  all  the  details  of  any  event 
or  scene  in  the  dreams  of  sleep.     It  is  desirable  also  to 
rem^nrber.  that  a  sensation  raiuires  merely  some  action 
in  a  nerve  ;  and  if  this  action  can  be  produced  by  any 
internal  excitement,  without  the  presence  of  an  external 
body,  the  same  result  will  follow  as  if  an  external  body 
were  there.      Such  'subjective  sensations"  have  been 
already  noticed  in  the  preceding  section  as  the  source  of 
hallucinations. 

Keeping  these  facts  in  view,  we  arc  prepared  to  ex- 
plain    the    characteristics    by    which    dreaming    is    dis- 
tinguished  from  waking  consciousness.    The  explanation 
IS  evidently  to  be  sought  in  the  peculiar  condition  of 
body  and  mind  which  sleep  implies.    Sleep  is  a  cessation 
Of  activity  in  the  brain,  as  well  as  generally  in  the  nervous 
system  to  which  the  ba,n  belongs.     The  thoughts  and 
feelings  v,hich  make  up  our  waking  life  imply  a  large 
consumption  of  those  elements  of  food   which   go   to 
supply  nerve  and   brain.     After  this  has  gone  on  for  a 
considerable  part  of  the  twenty-four  hours,  the  brain  and 
nerves  hive  spent  most  of  the  force  at  their  disposal 
and  do  their  work  more  feebly.      You   may   stimulate 
them  for  a  time  by  tea,  coffee,  alcohol,  tobacco,  agree- 
able  conversation,  exciting  work,  and  other  artifices;  but 
at  last  they  cease  work  from    pure   exhaustion.      The 
nerves  of  hearing,  sight,  and  touch  are  no  longer  affected 


|J 


260 


Psychology. 


by  ordinary  sounds,  sights,  and  contacts;  all  thought, 
all  consciousness  fades  away. 

Now,  it  is  known  that  the  brain  becomes  comparatively 
bloodless  in  sleep,  while  there  is  a  partial  return  of  blood 
to  its  vessels  when  the  sleep  is  disturbed  by  the  imper^ 
feet  consciousness  of  dreams;  and  the  quantity  ot  blood 
in  its  vessels  becomes  greatly  increased  with  the  perfect 
restoration  of  consciousness  on  awaking.     Dreaming  is, 
therefore,  a  state  in  which  we  are  half-asleep  and  half- 
awake— sufficiently  awake  to  have  some  consciousness, 
but  sufficiently  asleep  to  be  unable  to  control  the  direc- 
tion  of  cur  consciousness.     In  this  we  have  an  explana- 
tion of  the  generally  admitted  fact,  that  most   dreams 
take  place  at  the  transition  from   waking  to   sleep  or, 
perhaps  more  commonly,  from  sleep  to  waking. 

I.   Here,  then,  we  have  an  obvious  explanation  of  the 
first  characteristic  of  dreams,   their  ludicrous  improba- 
bility.    The  state  of  the  dreamer  is  evidently  one  in 
which  che  mind  is  comparatively  torpid— is  doing  little 
or  no  work.       "  Dreams  are  the  children    of  an    idle 
brnin."*      Now,  wb.en   the  mind   is  doing  good  work, 
we  do  not  surrender  ourselves  to  -  .^y  idle  fancy  that  is 
suggested  ;  on  the  contrary,  we  resolutely  exclude  every 
thought  which  is  not  connected  with   the  work  of  tne 
mind  ;  we  control  the  direction  of  our  thoughts.     But  in 
a  torpid  or  inactive  state  of  mind  we  let   our  th(Kights 
take  any  order  in   which   they  happen-  to  be  suggested. 
Such  a  state  we  often   indulge   in   during   our    waking 
hours ;    and  it  resembles  dreaming  so   obviously,   tha^t 
popular  language  calls  it  a  daydream,  or  by  the  French 
equivalent  of  nw/vk     The  improbable  character  of  the 
pictures,  with  which  we  allow  ourselves  to  be  amused  in 


:|l 


Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  i.,  Scene  4. 


:-^A.'- 


Illusory  Cognitions. 


261 


such  reverie,  is  witnessed  by  the  fact,  that  the  man  who 
indulges  in  them  is  said  to  be  building  tast/.es  in  the  air 
or  chateaux  en  Espagne.  If  our  thoughts  can  form  such 
fantastic  combinations  even  during  our  waking  life,  when 
we  never  lose  control  of  them  altogether,  is  it  wonderful 
that  they  run  into  an  utterly  lawless  riot  when  the  tor- 
pidity of  the  mind  leaves  them  undirected  by  any  active 
purpose  ? 

The  state  of  the  dreamer's  consciousness,  then,  is  one 
in  which  the  higher  function  of  thou-ht  or  comparison, 
implying  (as  the  third  part  of  this  Book  will  sho«! 
voluntary  control,  is  dormant,  and  only  the  more 
mechanics!  function  of  association  is  active.*  After  the 
lengthy  analysis  of  our  perceptions,  it  need  not  he  re- 
peated that  the  meaning  of  an  impression  on  any  sense 


It  13  one  of  the  fine  comparisons  of  Ilegel  tliat  discovers  an 
analogy  in  waking  and  sleep  to  tlie  grent  cosmic  phen(imena  of  day 
and  night.     At   night   the  mere  mechanical  forces,  on  which   the 
existence  of  the  earth   in   the  planetary  system  depends,  con'inue 
their    movements:    but     the   subtler    forces,    connected    with    tlie 
calonfic.  actinic,  and  optical   action  of  light",  cease;  and  organic 
life  m  plant  and  animal  i.s  affected  thereby.     Leaving  the  plant  o-.t 
of  account,  we  find  that,  in  the  animal,  as  in  the  vast  cosmic  bocies 
during  right,  it  i?  only  the  forces  necessary  to  existence  that  con- 
tinue  during  sleep  - :he  forces  cf  organic  life.     The  higher  forces  of 
an,,„al  lile-sensibiliiy  and  i.ritability-cease.     Now,  the  soul— 
the  consciousnesss-in  so  far  as  it  is  a  natural  phenomenon,  has  an 
analogy  with  the  other  phenomena  of  nature.     Its  lower  iunctions 
do  not  cease  in  sleep  ;  sensation,  and  even  ideas  that  have  been 
orig.n  dly  the  result  of  intellectual  processes,  may  still    ,e  excited  • 
but  fney  are  arranged  solely  by  the  laws  of  suggestion,  not  by  the 
categories  of  the  understanding.     The  higher  function  of  reason- 
companson-by  which  sensations  are  interpreted  in  their  real  rela- 
tions, IS  dormant.     Ideas  appear  merely  in   subjective,   fortuitous, 
fiupeific.al  association  ;  things  lose  all  necessary,  objective,  rational 
connection.     (See  Hegel's  Encyklopadie,  §  398.) 


\i 


'A 


ik- 


!*Sr 


Um] 


■\U;'., 


262 


depends 


Psychology. 


1  our  interpretation  of  it ;  and  as  that  inter- 
pretat.on  niiplies  a  somewhat  complicated    intellectual 
etlort  both  of  comparison  and  suggestion,  we  cannot  be 
astonished  that  it  is  beyond  the  sluggish  intellect  of  the 
Sleeper.     As  a  dream  is  a  partial  disturbance  of  sleep 
some  at  least  of  the  senses  are  sufficiently  roused  to  stir 
>n   consciousness    sens-^tions    which    arc    generally   so 
obscure  as  to  be  all  the  more  easily  misinterpreted  ;  and 
the  misinterpretation  is  commonly  directed  by  any  sug- 
gestion  that  happens  to  predominate  at  the  time.     That 
this  origin  of  dreams  is  no  mere  conjecture,  but  a  familiar 
fact,  is  implied  in  the  c  clicious  fancy  of  Queen  Mab,  as 


<• 


...     She  gallops  night  by  night 
Through  lovers'  brains,  an<I  Hr-m  ihcy  dream  of  love  ; 
O  er  courtiers'  knees,  that  dream  on  courtesies  straight ; 
O  er  lawyers'  'Angers,  who  straight  dream  on  fees  ; 
O'er  ladies'  lips,  who  straight  on  kisses  dream. 
Sometime  she  gallops  o'er  a  courtier's  nose, 
And  then  dreams  he  of  smelling  out  a  suit  ; 
And  sometime  comes  she  with  a  tiihe-pig's  tail, 
Tickling  a  parson's  nose  as  a'  lies  asleep, 
Then  dreams  he  of  another  benefice. 
Sometime  she  driveth  o'er  a  soldier's  neck. 
And  then  he  dreams  of  cutting  foreign  throats. 
Of  breaches,  ambuscadoes,  Spanish  blades. 
Of  health's  (ive  fadom  deep  ;  and  then  anon 
Drums  in  his  ear,  at  which  he  starts  and  wakes."  • 

l^  we  took  the  necessary  trouble,  we  might  often,  without 
calling  in  the  aid  of  any  poetical  fiction,  trace  a  dream 
not  only  to  its  originating  sensation,  but  also  through  the 
suggestion  from  which  it  received  its  peculiar  shape.'  Thus 
Dr.  Gregory  relates  that  in  earlier  life  he  had  ascended 
Mount  Vesuvius,  and  during  the  ascent  had  felt  the  heat 


|f 


Romeo  andJttlUt,  Act  i.,  Scene  4. 


Illusory  Cognitions. 


263 


of  the  mountain  on  his  feet.     Long  subsequently  he  had 
read  an  account  of  Mount   Etna,  though  he  hau  never 
seen  it.    Some  time  afterwards  he  went  to  bed  one  ni"ht 
with  a  vessel  of  hot  water  at  his  feet ;  and  during  The 
course  of  his  sleep  he  dreamt  that  he  was  walking  ud 
Mount  Etna,  and  felt  the  ground  under  his  feet  warm. 
On  another  occasion  he  mentions  that  he  had  read  an 
account  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Territory,  which  gave  a 
vivid  description  of  its  sever   climate.    One  night,  shortly 
afterwards,   he  dreamt  of  being  in  that  territory,   anri 
suffering  intensely  from  the  cold  ;  he  awoke,  and  found 
that  in  his  sleep  he  had  kicked  the  bedclothes  off* 

The  obscure  sensible  impressions,  which  thus  suggest 
fantastic  interpretations  in  the  torpid  mind,  will  easily 
explain  those  horrors  of  dream-life   which    have   their 
^urce  in  the  various  painful  sensations  of  indigestion. 
To  such  obscure  impressions  also  can  b^  referred  that 
large  class  of  horrid  dreams  which  go  by  the  name  of 
mghtmare,  in  which  the  common  circumstance   is  an 
effort  to  do  something,  with  the  feeling  of  inability  to  do 
It.     These  dreams  will  be  generally  found  to  arise  from 
impeded  respiration.     The  sleeper  is  lying  on  his  back 
or  face,  or  in  some  other  positio.i  in  whi-h  his  chest  can- 
not freely  expand  to  allow  a  full  inhalation;  and  naturally, 
therefore,  he  has  a  dim  sensation  of  endeavouring  to 
perform  the  most  essential  of  the  vital  p  ■  .cesses,  while 
there  is  some  difficulty  in  its  perfornance   which    he 
cannot  overcome.     This  sensation  is  o^ .  ourse  enhanced 
If  there  is  the    additional    opDre^^'uri    arisinq    from    a 
flatulent  or  overloaded  stomach.     But  the  general  result 


*  Abercrombie's  Inquiries  Concerning  the  ItUdledual  Powers 

p.  201.  ' 


s  i  J  ! 


264 


Psychology. 


>  ,1 


is  the  same  m  all,  varied  only  according  to  the  habits  or 
circumstances  of  each  individual.* 

Other  facts  of  dream  life  receive  a  similar  explanation. 
It  IS  well  known,  for  example,  that  questions  addressed 
to  a  dreamer,  especially  if  they  are  connected  with  the 
subject  of  his  dream,   will  often  elicit   answers   which 
show  that  the  question  has  been  heard,  and   has  even 
become  mixed  up  with  some  of  his  amusing  fancies.     It 
IS  also  a  familiar  experience  of  many,   that   they   can 
waken  at  a  fixed  hour  by  determinmg  upon   it  before 
gomg  to  sleep.    This  would  seem  to  imply  that,  notwith- 
standing the  torpid  state  of  the  sensibility  in  general   a 
certam  degree  of  wakefulness  was  preserved,  sufficient'to 
keep  note  of  time,  without  preventing  the  refreshment 
ot  sleep;  and   it  is  known   that  the   dominant  idea  of 
nsmg  at  a  particular  hour  occasionally  gives  shape  to  a 
dream.  ' 

It  was  noticed  above  that,  though  dreams  generally 

exhibit  a  whimsical  character,   yet  this  is  by  no  means 

essential ;  for  the  ilctions  of  dreaming  may  often  be  less 

strange  than   the  fact.     ^  real   life.     This  is  not  at  all 

^consistent  with  the    •  .•<    y  which  ascribes  the  impro- 

bable  caprices  of  drea.  to  the  fact  of  the  mind  bcin-r 

m  such  a  dormant  state  that  it  is  unable  to  control  the 

directions  of  its  thoughts;    for  though  thoughts,   wh.n 

uncontrolled,  may  run   riot,  yet  it  is  quite  possible  for 

them    to   take  a  perfectly  sober   course.     In  fact,   the 


^.Shtmares  with  me  take  a  turn  which  is  evidently  si,^-.ested 
by  professional  work.  I  am  standing  in  front  of  an  audicncx^  who 
are  wa.t.ng  to  hear  me  speak  ;  but,  aliliough  often  i.leas  and  the 
words  to  express  them  seem  to  rise  with  greater  readiness  .-md 
bnlhance  than  during  waking  hours,  the  most  frantic  effort.s  of  the 
vocal  organs  fail  to  elicit  a  single  sound. 


Illusory  Cognitions. 


26$ 


subject  of  a  dream  may  sometimes  control  the  direction 
of  our  thoughts,  and  produce  thereby  a  concentration  of 
mind,  of  which  we  are  incapable  amid  the  distractions 
of  the  waking  world.  As  a  result  of  this,  it  has  been  the 
testimony  of  several  distinguished  men,  that  in  sleep  they 
have  seen  their  way  through  problems  which  had  per- 
plexed their  waking  hours ;  and  Coleridge  informs  us 
that  his  poem  of  Kubla  Khan  was  composed  in  a 
dream.* 

11.  There  still  remains  for  explanation  the  second 
peculiarity  of  dream  fancies,  the  irresistible  illusion  of 
their  reality.  This  peculiarity,  too,  must  be  attributed  to 
the  dormant  state  of  the  mind.  This  torpidity  of  mind 
implies  two  circumstances,  which  explain  why  tiie  imagery 
of  our  dreams  should  appear  so  real  in  comparison  with 
any  imaginations  of  our  waking  consciousness. 

I.  The  first  of  these  circumstances  is  the  absence  of 
any  impressions  from  the  real  world  to  exhibit,  by  force 
of  contrast,  the  unreality  of  the  images  which  play  before 
us  in  dreams.  That  the  want  of  this  contrast  has  to  do 
with  the  illusory  reality  of  dreams,  must  appear  from  the 
fact  that  a  dream  is  instantaneously  dispelled  by  any 
violent  sensation,  such  as  a  loud  noise,  which  suddenly 
rouses  the  dreamer  to  waking  life.  It  is  an  interesting 
fact,  which  illustrates  the  same  effect,  that  sj.ectral 
illusions,  which  have  tormented  a  patient  in  a  dukcned 
chamber,  often  vanish  by  simply  letting  in  the  1-  ht,  and 
revealing  thereby  the  realities  around. 

2.  A  second  circumstance  connected  with  the  condi- 
tion of  the  sleeper  also  accounts  fo.  the  illusory  reality  of 
his  dreams.     The  vividness,  with  which  we  can  call  up 


•  Several  facts  of  tliis  sort  are  related  by  Mr.  Dallas  in  The  Gay 
Science,  Vol.  i.,  pp.  232-4. 


266 


Psychology. 


i:- 


in  imnge  of  anything,  depends 
o  1  the  sense,  through  which 


among  other  conditions. 


-MMg  occupied  or  not  at  the  t 


e  nnage  was  first  received, 


•»»e.     It  is  difficuh  to 


represent  distinctly  the  visual  appearance  of  anythin.  if 
the  eyes  are  at  the  moment  engnged  in  examining  some 
actual  object;  and  this  is  the  reason  why  many  people 
instinctively  close    the   eyes    during    intense   efforts   of 
thought  or  recollection.     It  is  equally  dirficult  to  recall 
distinctly  a  tune  while  the  ears  are  being  assailed  with 
actual  music  or  loud  talk  ;  and  the  same  fact  is  notice- 
able in  the  case  of  the  other  senses.     It  is,  indeed,  for 
this  reason  that  we  can  generally  study  to  better  purpose 
amid  quiet  surroundings  and  familiar  scenes.     Now  in 
sleep  the  senses  are  so  torpid  that  they  disturb  us  very 
little  with  impressions  from  the  outside  world  at  all  •  and 
therefore  any  images  that  are  suggested,  being  allowed  to 
absorb  the  consciousness,  become  as   vivid  as   if  they 
were  produced   by  real  objects.     An   interesting  result 
occasionally  follows  from  this.    By  one  of  the  Secondary 
Laws  of  Suggestion  we  have  seen  that,  the  more  vivid  an 
Idea  IS,  It  becomes  the  more  powerfully  suggestive ;  and 
therefore  it  sometimes  happens  that  facts  are  su  .gestcd 
ma  dream,  which  had  been  totally  forgotten  in  waking 
life.     Several  interesting  anecdotes  are  told  of  persons 
wno  recovered  in  a  dream  important  information  regnrd- 
mg  events  which    they  had  fruitlessly  endeavoured   to 
recollect  when  awake.* 


•Some  of  these  are  preserved  by  Al)ercrombie  [Innuiries 
Concermug  the  Intellectual  Powers,  pp.  205-11)  Dr  O  W 
Holmes  relates  a  story  of  a  lost  bond  havini,r  been  recovered  by  iti 
owner  recollecting,  during  the  excitement  of  drowning  from  which 
he  was  saved,  the  place  where  it  had  been  laid  {Ahchanism  in 
Thought  and  Morals,  p.  75). 


Illusory  Cognitions. 


2C7 

But  how  is  it  thnt  sometimes  a  drenm  loses  its  decep- 
Mve  reahty,  and  we  become  aware  that  it  «  a  dream  ? 
1  hat  such  ,s  not  infrequently  the  case,  must  have  been 
he  experience  of  most  dreamers;  and  there  have  been 
nstances  of  men,  tormented  by  nightmare,  who  have 
succeeded  m  vanquishing  its  delusions  by  resolving,  as 
hey  went    .0     .leep,  that  they  would  treat  its  ho;rid 
fanas,es   as    harmless    unrealities.      Dr.   Reid    relates 
tha     ,n    h,s   early  l,fe,  being   tormented   almost   every 
n^U  for  a  while  by  frightful  dreams,  he  resolved  to  try 
and  remember  that  his  terrors  were  unreal.     After  some 
fruitless  efforts  he  was  at  last  successful ;  and  "often" 
l>e  says  "when  I  was  sliding  over  a  precipice  into  the 
abyss,  I  recollected  that  it  was  all  a  dream  and  boldly 
,  mped^down.-    Such  effects  are  obviously  to  be  ex' 

0  l^h^l  "T  ",  ^'^^"'"^'--^  "-'  'he  dreamer  is  not 
only  halt-asleep,  but  also  half-awake,  and  that  he  tends 
e  ther  to  relapse  tnto  the  unconsciousness  of  profound 
slumber  or  to  struggle  into  the  distinct  consciousness  of 
vaking  life.     Now,  if  the  latter  should  be  the  course  of 

1  s  drean,,  and  .f  he  is  not  suddenly  startled  into  com- 
plete wakefulness,  there  will  often  be  a  stage  in  his 
J'ream.ltfe,  at  which  its  spectres  continue  to  ho:er  before 
1  .s  mind,  but  he  is  s.ifificiently  aroused  to  be  perfecl 
onscious  of  their  spectral  nature.  It  will  generally  be 
f  ".d.  n  fact  that  the  dreamer  wakens  Lmediately 
i  ler  realizing  that  his  dream  is  a  dream 

Perhaps  it  would  be  reg.-,rded  as  an  incomplete  dis- 
c.^sion,  which  did  not  refer  to  those  remarkable  coin- 
c  deuces  between  dreams  and  real  events,  which  play  a 
c.nspicuous  part  in  the  literature  of  modern  spirituLhr 


^w  1^  r.;:':„a""'""  -' ""  ^'^^  -"  -'"'■-  ^z 


,ll, 


268 


Psychology, 


idences 


WVl 


It  cannot  be  denied  that  such  co 
curred,  in  which  dreams  seem  to  have  contained  prog- 
nostications  with  regard  to  future  events,  or  information 
about  contemporary  events  taking  place  in  another  part 
of  the  world.     But  it  should  not  be  forgotten  that  it  is 
seldom,  if  ever,  possible  to  tell  how  much  a  good  story 
of  this  sort   may  have  been  embellished  even   by  the 
original   ndrrator,  and  still  more  by  imaginative  story- 
tellers.     Moreover,  it  must  be  remembered  that,  while 
we  hear  all  the  remarkable  coincidences  between  dreams 
and  real  occurrences,  we  seldom   hear  of  those  dreams 
which  had  all  the  appearance  of  being  significant  and 
yet  turned  out  after  all  to  be  meaningless  foolery  of  the 
miagination.     I  have  known  instances  of  dreams  which 
at   the   time  deeply  impressed  the  dreamers  with  the 
events,  and  were  found  to  indicate   nothing  but  a  little 
mdigestion  or  an  uneasy  position  of  the  body.     Indeed, 
when  it  is  borne  in  mind  that  there  are  probably  several 
hundred  millions  of  dreams   every   night,    perhaps  we 
ought  to  wonder,   not  that   such  coincidences  are   so 
many,  but  that  they  are  so  itsv.     Besides,  such  dreams 
are  practically  worthless.     Like  the  prophecies  of  Cas- 
sandra, they  are  fated  to  be  received  with  incredulity. 
Few  men  will  go  even  the  length  of  Antigonus  :— 

**  Dreams  are  toys  ; 
Yet  for  this  once,  yea  superstiiiously, 
I  will  be  squared  by  this."  * 

For  who  is  to  determine  when  a  dream  is  a  trustworthy 
informer,  and  not  merely  "a  false  creation  proceeding 
from  a  heat-oppressed  brain  "  ?  ° 


•  Winter's  Tale,  Act  iii.,  Scene  3. 


Illusory  Cognitions, 


26g 


§  3. — Hypnotic  States. 


The  term  hypnotic,  from  the  Greek  word  for  sleep,  was 
suggested  by  an  eminent  English  surgeon,  Mr.  Braid,  to 
describe  a  class  of  phenomena  which  have  their  source 
in  a  nervous  condition  resembling  sleep.  The  affinity 
between  these  phenomena  and  dreams  is  so  remarkable, 
that  the  former  will  be  found  to  have  received  the  chief 
part  of  their  explanation  in  the  treatment  of  the  latter. 
At  the  same  time,  hypnotic  phenomena  are  so  interesting 
in  many  respects  that  they  deserve  a  separate  considera- 
tion. We  shall,  therefore,  first  describe  their  distinctive 
peculiarities,  and  then  inquire  how  these  may  be  ex- 
plained. 

(A)  In  studying  the  characteristics  of  hypnotism,  we 
come  upon  one  that  is  fundamental. 

I.  This  primary  characteristic  is  a  nervous  condition 
resembling  ordinary  sleep.  The  condition  mtiy  be  in- 
duced either  involuntarily  by  some  disorder  of  the 
nervous  system,  or  voluntarily  by  some  artifice  of  a 
monotonous  character,  such  as  is  often  adopted  for  the 
purpose  of  overcomir.g  sleeplessness. 

1.  Of  the  hypnotic  states  which  come  on  involuntarily 
the  most  familiar  is  co 'nmon  somnambulism.  The  fact 
of  walking  in  sleep,  wh'ch  is  alone  expressed  by  this 
term,  although  a  commor  phenomenon,  is  by  no  means 
an  essential  or  distinctive  characteristic,  of  the  state. 
Frequently  it  consists  in  rn^re  talk  during  sleep,  and  at 
this  stnge  can  scarcely  be  distinguished  from  those 
dreams  in  which  the  dreamer  5s  heard  speaking,  at  times 
in  reply  to  questions.  An  interesting  case  in  point  is 
recorded  of  a  military  gentleman,  whose  brother-officers 
often  amused  themselves  in  directing  the  course  of  his 


r'!r 


m 


II 


j-.i 


.1!.' 


Hi.    Ij 


270 


Psychology. 


«K 


(Ircms  by  SHggestlons  whispered  into  his  ear.*  Thi, 
<l>""Sh  given  as  a  case  of  ordinary  dreamin.  ou'h; 
rathei'  lo  be  rcarderi  .le  «„„  „<■  "''"'""ng,  ought 

subiect  of  Zf  somnambulism  i  for  the 

subject  of  the  expenment  was  continually  roused  to 
«c,™  ,  under  the  impulse  -  /  his  suggested  dreams. 

But  there  are  also  insiances  in  which  some  of  the 
most  astomshing  phenomena  of  somnambuli       are  ex 
h  med  w,tho.,t  the  patient  leaving  his  bed.     Su  h      the 
ca  e  of  Agnes  Drumn,ond,  than  which  there  is  pe  h  p! 

states  of  mind.     1  his  g,rl  had  evidently  suffered  some 

:2m'"V''  'a  "'"r '''''"'  ^^°"  -  =>«''-" 

cirly  life.      I  he  etfect  of  this  was  to  render  her  uncom 

attacks,  .n  which  she  displayed  an  extraordinary  .'bili.y 
of ,  anous  kinds.     While  in  an  unusually  profound  s leen 

h  d      °rd^  ■     l,T  '""'"'  ™'"l'°-"°-  "hich  she 
had  heaid  p  ,,ed  by  an  itinerant  fiddler,  or  discoursing 
with  great  beauty  of  language  and  illusbation,  on  ever°J 
imaginable  subject. f  ^ 

More  conimonly,  however,  the  somnambulist  rises  in 
'IS  sleep,  and  proceeds  to  perform  various  actions.  Some" 
™es  the  motive  of  his  actions  is  undiscoverable^t 
often  tey  are  such  as  he  was  occupied  with  durin:  tl  e 
<!.  y.  1  he  farmer  ploughs  or  threshes,  or  does  soml 
oiher^rm-labour.  The  school-boy  sit's  do.rto 
task.      1  he  clergyn,an  wrues  his  sermon ;  ,  .c  ju.Ige,  his 


t  D.gald   S(ew,arl's  Works,  Vol  x.,  pp.  cliii..clix.      See  also 
2j2.S.     Abetcrombie  does  not  give  the  girl's  name. 


Illusory  Cognitions* 
decision  ;  the  author,  a  part  of  the  bor  k  on  which  h 


271 


e  13 


engaged.  The  man  of  science  works  at,  and  sometimes 
succeeds  in  solving,  the  problem  which  is  perplexing 
him  at  the  time. 

Some  patients  are  liable  to  paroxysms  of  an  hypnotic 
character  in  waking  life,  and  during  these  exhibit  all  the 
phenomena  characteristic  of  nocturnal  somnambulism. 

2.  But  it  has  been  found  possible  to  induce  voluntarily 
a  state  essential!     similar  to   ordinary  somnambulism. 
The  marvellous  nature  of  many  of  the  phenomena  ex- 
hibited in  this  state  has  produced  such  an  impression, 
not  only  on  the  popular  mind,  but  on  the  minds  of  many 
scientific  inquirers,  as    to   upset  their    usual    habits   of 
scientific  caution;  and  as  a  result,  various  unscientific 
hypotheses   have   been   suggested   to   account   for   the 
phenomena  cither  by  some  occult  force  of  nature  or  by 
some   occult   operation   of  one   of  the   known   forces. 
Among  these  hypotheses  a  prominent   place  mus'    be 
given  to  that  of  Mesme.:,  v,ho  ascribed  the  phenomena 
to  animal  magnetism.     Others,  again— the   representa- 
tives of  the  so-called  electro-biology-held  tliat  electricity 
is  the  influence  at  work;  while  the  Baron  Von  Reichen- 
bach  imagined  the  effects  to  be  due  to  an  universally 
diffused  force,  which,  after  the  Teutonic  god  Odin,  he 
named  the  Od  or  Odylic  force.     But  the  subsequent 
remarks  will  show  that  even  the  most  startling  pheno- 
mena of  this  state  do  not  req-iire  for  iheir  explan  >  ion 
any  force  beyond  the  known  agencies  which  are  0.  work 
in  the  animal  and  mental  nature  of  man. 

Before  proceeding  further,  however,  it  may  be  oh- 
served  that  some  of  the  essential  characteristics  of 
hypnotism  are  found  in  many  of  those  morbid  social 
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Psychology, 


are  fortunately  disappearing  from  the  life  of  modern 

civilisation. 

II.   It  is  evident  that,  while  there  is  a  certain  resem- 
bl.mce  between   the  hypnotic  state  and  ordinary  sleep 
with  its  dreams,  there  is  also  a  marked  difference.  Wliile 
dreaming  proper  is  a  passive  state  in  which  the  patient 
simply   allows    various    images    to    pass    uncontrolled 
through  his  consciousness,  the  hypnotic  patient  is  always 
active ;  and  there  is,  therefore,  a  propriety  in  the  expres- 
sion, which  describes  somnambulism  as  "a  dream  acted." 
How  is  this  to  be  more  specially  defined?     It  seems 
that,  as  in  ordinary  sleep,  there  is  a  general  torpidity  of 
Ihe   cerebro-spinal    system,  only    that    the   torpidity   of 
hypnotism  is  much  more  profound.     But  combined  with 
this  impassive  torpidity  of  the  cerebro-spinal  system  in 
general,  there  remains  an  abnormal  activity  in   certain 
portions,  or  at  least  a  capability  in  certain  portions  of 
oeing  excited  to  abnormal  activity.     Accordingly,  ideas 
are  able  to  take  an  extraordinary  hold  on  the  somnam- 
bulist's mind,  and  to  concentrate  his  whole  mental  and 
bodily  energy  in  a  degree  altogether  impossible  in  wakincr 
life. 

In  the  hypnotic  state,  therefore,  the  patient's  mind  is 
dominated  by  an  idea  or  set  of  ideas,  creating  an  irre- 
sistible conviction  that  he  does  or  does  not  experience 
certain   sensations,   that   he  can  or  cannot  do  certain 
actions.      In    ordinary   nocturnal    somnambulism    the 
dominant  ideas  are  suggested,  as  in  sleep,  by  obscure 
sensible  impressions  or  by  the  laws  of  association  ;  and 
it   is    noteworthy  that  the  mind  is  so  absorbed  in  the 
dominant  idea,  that  attention  is  scarcely  ever  given  to 
any  suggestion  lying  wholly  out  of  its  sphere.     Still,  it  is 
possible  for  another  person  with  some  tact  to  control  the 
ideas  which  sway  the  somnambulist;  and  this  is  com- 


Illusory  Cognitions. 


273 


nionly  done  by  the  opentor  in  artificial  hypnotism.  It 
appears  that  the  muscular  sense  is  that  by  which  the 
operator  can  most  easily  work  upon  his  subject ;  and 
certainly  many  of  the  most  marvellous  phenomena  of  the 
hypnotic  state  are  due  to  an  almost  preternatural  exalta- 
tion of  muscular  sensibility  and  power. 

III.  An  additional  peculiarity  of  this  state  is  its  dis- 
connection with  the  ordinary  consciousness  of  waking 
life.     This  disconnection  appears  in  two  ways. 

1.  It  involves  an  oblivion  in  waking  life  of  what  has 
been  done  in  the  hypnotic  state.  The  oL.ivion  is  fre- 
quently total,  though  there  is  sometimes  a  very  vague 
reminiscence  of  something  having  taken  place.  But  in 
all  cases  the  oblivion  is  so  complete  as  to  constitute  a 
practical  separation  of  somnambulic  acts  from  the  per- 
sonality of  the  patient  ;  and,  accordingly,  in  more  than 
one  instance  homicides  have  been  successfully  defended 
on  the  ground  of  their  having;  been  perpetrated  in  a  state 
of  somnambulism.* 

2.  But  the  disconnection  of  hypnotic  and  ordinary 
mental  life  is  further  evinced  in  the  fact,  that  with  the 
waking  oblivion  of  hypnotic  states  there  is  often  evidently 
a  reminiscence  in  one  such  state  of  what  has  been  done 
in  another. 

It  appears,  therefore,  thr.t,  whil  hypnotism  exhibits 
an  obvious  affinity  with  sleep  and  dreaming,  it  is  yet 
distinguished,  on  the  one  hand,  by  a  completer  torpidity 
than  ordinary  s'eep,  on  the  other  hand,  by  a  more  active 
excitement  than  ordinary  dreaming;  and  thisextraordinary 


•Dallas'  The  Gay  Science,  Vol.  i.,  p.  234;  O.  W.  Holmes' 
Mechanism  in  Thought  and  Aforais,  ]i.  41.  See  also  Annalei 
Afciiico-psycholflgiqucs  for  1881,  p.  468,  cited  in  the  Forlniohtl} 
Review  for  November,  1885,  p.  646  (Am.  ed.). 


ili 

in  '      'A    I 


274 


Psychology. 


ac  ,vuy  ,„  one  part  of  the  system,  combined  «uh  ex.ri- 
ordmary  ,,„„,d„y  in  ,he  rest,  produces  a  sort  of  drble 
conscousness,  disconnecting  the  normal  from   the  1 
normal  mental  life  of  the  patient.     These  are  t"e    heno 
n;ena^wh,ch  require  explanation  in  this  remarUbl'^s:,: 

unl!uai'pt::,:e:f  "'l^:''''f  ■ :  '"""^v-  ■"^p--" 

1  icnon.ena,  is  that  uhich,  recocn  sin?  all  fli^ir 
e.  raor  ,„ary  character,  ,„  so  far  «;  verified  y'  cu  ate 
observattons,  yet  seeks  to  account  for  them  by  known 
laws  rather  than  by  the  hypothesis  of  occult  agenc  e T  or 
occult  opera„ons  of  agencies  that  are  kno..,.    Our  He 

ot  man,  phenomena  sufficiently  resembling  -hose  of 
hypnottsm  ,0  warrant  us  in  believing  that  both  re  d.te 
to  the  same  causes.     The  neediessness  of  any  hypothetr 

iyT;,i- al"  U°r  '"'  '''"""'  P-^-omeL  ii  r  : 
bv  he  F  I  '  "  '''""'  °f "  -°™™i»-on  appointed 
byt  eF        h  go,e,„„,„,  ,^^^,„^,.^^  Mesmer's  theory 

Sat.on,  th,s  commission  reported  that  all  ,he  phenomena. 
»sc  ,beo  to  the  effect  of  magnetism  on  the  hum.an  body 
could  be  produced  by  simply  m.king  persons  I.!in'e 

>"en  .     It  ,s  evident,  therefore,  that  the  phenomena  in 
qiies  ion   were  diif  tn  iu^      ■   j  .    •  Phenomena  in 

certain  idea  "  ""'"*  ''^'"8  P°^^"^^<^  »»'>  a 

Accordingly,  to  find  the  analogues  of  hypnotic  „I,en 
omena  m  ordinary  mental  life,  ,ve  n,ust  obse  ve       e  fe  "' 
"l..ch  are  cou,n,only  produced  by  the  mind  be  ,  '  ,t 
scbed  ,n  one  subject,     These  efl^ects  have  been    Irea t 


Illusory  Cognitions. 


275 

in  some  measure  referred  to.  where  mental  abstraction 
was  analysed,  and  shown  to  be  the  complement  or  reverse 
of  attention.*  In  this  necessary  union  of  attention  with 
abstraction,  we  have  a  familiar  parallel  to  the  extraor- 
dinary concentration  of  the  somnambulist';  mind  on  one 
subject  along  with  his  equally  extraordinary  insensibility 
to  everything  else.  This  parallel  will  appear  the  moie 
s.gmficanr,  the  more  carefully  it  is  followed  into  detail. 

In  the  first  place,  it  has  been  already  observed  that  the 
abstraction,  which  is  the  necessary  counterpart  of  con- 
centrated attention,  oft.n  reaches  the  extreme  form  of 
absentmindedness  ;  and  authenticated  instances  of  this 
mental  condition  do  not  fall  very  far  short  of  the  torpor 
which  the  somnambulist  displays  in  regard  to  everything 
beyond  the  range  of  his  dominant  ideas. 

But  it  ;.  the  other  side  of  these  phenomena  that  chiefly 
requires  to  be  considered  in  this  connection.     The  effect 
of  attention,  in  ordinary  life,  is  to  concentrate  the  energy 
of  an  individual  to  such  a  degree,  that  he  is  enabled  to 
achieve  results  beyond  the  power  of  a  distracted  mind 
Now,  these  results  are  sometimes  not  altogether  out  of 
proportion  to  those   which  flow  from  the  intense  mental 
concentration  of  the  somnambulist.     Even  if  we  leave 
out  of  account  the  great  achievements  of  science  and  art 
which  have  been  rendered   possible  by  the  power  of  in- 
tense concentration  on  the  part  of  scientific  and  artistic 
minds,  and  which,  from   their  originality,  often  imply  in- 
tellectual activities  of  a  more  unusual  character  than  even 
the  marvels  of  hypnotisn,  there  are  familiar  facts  in  the 
humbler  mental  l.fe  of  every  day,  which  give  an  insight 
into  the  source  of  these  marvels. 


i#] 


I    i     ! 


iff: 


•See  Chapter  ii.  of  this  Tart,  §  i. 


I       -V 


Li 


276 


|i 


1 
I 


ii  .fH 


I  a 


PsycJioIogy. 


The   intense  mental   concentration  of  the  hypnoti'^ 
patient    often    assumes   the   form    of  an   overpowering 
belief  that  he  can   or  cannot  do  certain  actions.     The 
increased  abihty  and   disability,  which  are  thus  gener- 
ated,   are    paralleled    by  the  well-known    e/Tects  of  ex- 
cessive  confidence  and  diffidence  in  daily  experience. 
These   effects   are    realised,   in  a  homely  form,    which 
makes   them    familiar   to   all   men,   in   games  of  skill 
Success  at  the  outset  is  one  of  the  most  important  con- 
ditions of  success  at  the  close.      The  confidence  thus 
awakened   in   the  player's    mind   impacts  an  increased 
firmness  to  nerve  and  muscle,  enabling  him  to  direct  his 
movements  with  precision  ;  so  truly  has  it  been  said  of 
those  who  make  a  good  start, 


<« 


Hos  successus  alit ;  possunt,  quia  posse  videntur.'*^ 


On  the  other  hand,  an  unfortunate  slip  at  the  commence- 
ment of  a  game,  on  the  part  even  of  one  who  usually 
plays  well,  may  often  be  observed  creating  a  distrust  in 
one's  powers,— a  feeling  of  anxious  timidity,— which  is 
almost  sure  to  interfere  with  accuracy  of  stroke.      This 
effect  of  confidence  is,  in  truth,  similar  to  that  v^hich  is 
produced  by  any  emotion  powerful  enough  to  concen- 
trate an  individual's  energies  on  one  object.     It  is  thus 
that   under   the   influence   of    ligh    enthusiasms    men 
become  capable  of  achievements,  for  which  the  tamer 
motives   of  everyday    life    are   inadequate;   and    occa- 
sionally   a    human    career    is     blighted    by    a    single 
crime,  to  which   the   criminal   might  never  h:ive  beai 
seduced   but   for   the   overmastering   temptation    of    a 
moment. 


•  Aendd,  v.,  231. 


Illusory  Cognitions,  277 

The  irresistible  subjection  of  the  somnambulist's  mind 
to  a  dominant  idea  ofien  assumes  the  form  of  a  belief 
that  he  does  or  does  not  experience  certain  sensations. 
This  phenomenon  scarcely  requires  any  elucidation  by 
reference  to  other  spheres  of  mental  life,  after  what  has 
been  said,   in  the  first  section  of  this  chapter,  on  the 
hallucina'ions  and  illusions  to  which  even  the  same  mind 
IS  sometimes  subject.     Here  a  sing'e  additional  remark 
may   appropriately   be    made    on    the    effect   of    mere 
imagination   in   creating  actual  sensations.      Numerous 
instances  are  recorded  of  persons  being  made  to  feel 
sensations  of  almost  every  variety  under  the  influence  of 
strong  conviction,  and  such  instances  could  probably  be 
multiplied  from  the  experience  of  most  men.      It  is,  in 
fact,  not  an  uncommon  social  amusement  to  fmd  sport 
at  a  friend's  expense  by  making  him  the  victim  of  some 
harmless  hallucination  ;  and  any  one  may  by  an  experi- 
ment  of  this  sort  discover  how  easily  subjective  sensations 
can  be  excited.*     The  eass  with  which  a  person  may  be 
thus  victimised,  is  of  a  piece  with  the  power  which  the 
mesmeric  oj)erator  wields  over  his  subject. 

Nor  is  the   disconnection   of  hypnotic   and   normal 


^    •The   Memoirs  of  Dr.   Chalmers  relate  two  such  ple.s.r.tri-s 
intended    to    exhibit  imagination  overriding   sense.       In    one    the 
vict.m  .s  made  to  feel  the  taste  of  coffee,  in  another  the  smell  of 
sulphur.     (Vol.  i.,  pp.  191.3).     A  remarkable  case  is  known  to  me 
of  a  farm-servant  who,  treading  inadvertently  on  a  harrow,  saw  one 
of  Its  prongs  protruding  through  the   upper  leather  of  his  boot 
••  My  God  !  »  he  exclaimed.  "  I  have  got  lockjaw  ; »  and  fell  into  a 
sort  of  tetanic  paroxysm.      He  was  carried  in   this  state  iyto  the 
house,   his  boot   tenderly  pulled  off,   when  it  was  found  that   the 
prong  had  passed  without  hurting  him  between  two  of  his  toes 
Yet  ,t  was  some  hours  befure  he  could  free  himself  from  the  tenor 
of  lockjaw. 


I 


'N; 


l!li 


%\-', 


2;8 


PsycJioIogy. 


consciousness  without  a  parallel  in  our  ordinary  mental 
life.     The  oblivion  of  hypnotic  actions  in  waking  life  is 
analogous  to  the  difficulty  of  reinstating  at  will  momenta 
of  intense   mental  absorption,    whether   in   intellectual 
work    or    in    emotional    outburst.      This    difficulty    is 
probably  owing   to  the   fact,    that  all    such    absorption 
involves  an  excessive  waste  of  energy  which  is  essentially 
destructive,  and  that  the  destructive  nature  of  the  state 
forbids   its   reproduction   even   in    the   fainter   form    of 
memory.      It  is  from  this  cause  that  human  character 
often  presents  combinations  apparently  the  most  incon- 
gruous.      For  the  ecstasies  of  the  enthusiast,  however 
ennobling  their  influence  might  be,  cannot  be  recalled 
with  sufficient  distinctness  to  exert  that  influence  on  his 
conduct;  and  therefore  his  life  may  be  separated  into 
two  parts,  which  seem  not  only  quite  distinct,  but  even 
antagonistic  to  er.ch  other.     A  fanatic  of  the  type  of 
Robespierre  or  a  devout  inquisitor  may  indulge  one  day 
in   a  gush    of    religious    fervour,    and    the    next    find 
diabolical  satisfaction  in  a  butchery  al   which   healthy 
human  nature  stands  aghast.* 

The  disconnection  of  hypnotic  and  normal  conscious- 
ness is  in  some  respects  also  illustrated  by  the  phenomena 
of  habitual  and  dexterous  actions.  These  exhibit  an 
accuracy  which  parallels  that  of  the  somnambulist's 
conduct,— an  accuracy  which  disappears  under  any 
attempt  at  conscious  direction  as  completely  as  the 
somnambulist's  increase  of  power  is  destroyed  by  the 
restoration  of  normal  consciousness.  There  is  also  a 
separation  in  consciousness  between  the  actions  that  are 


*  Some  striking  instances  of  such  incongruous  combinations  in 
moral  character  are  given  by  Mr.  Lecky  in  his  IJistory  of  Etirotean 
Morals,  Vol.  i.,  pp.  305-8. 


Illusory  Cognitions. 


279 

done  under  the  influence  of  habit  and  those  that  are 
governed  by  conscious  volition,-~a  separation  so  com- 
plete.  that  we  often  go  through  a  long  series  of  habitual 
actions  without  being  able  to  recall  a  single  detail  of  the 
er,es.     Kven  the  fact  that  a  patient  in  one  hypnotic 
state  can  recall  what  he  did  in  a  previous  state.-this 
connection  of  hypnotic  states  with  each  other,  while  they 
remain  disconnected  with  ordinary  consciousness,  is  not 
without  an  analogue   in   the    phenomena  of   habitual 
actions.      For  it  is  often  observable  that,  if  we  b.eak 
down  in  the  performance  of  such  action,  wc  start  the 
whole  series  afresh   with   better  prospects  of  success ; 
tha   ,s  to  say,  by  going  back  to  the  beginning,  or  to  some 
well-marked   pomt    in    the    series,    we    endeavour    to 
remstate  the  condition  of  habitual  activity  in  the  hone  of 
being  able  to  proceed  to  the  end  of  the  series  with  that 
mechanical  accuracy  which  we  despair  of  attaining  by 
any  conscious  direction.     This  is  illustrated,  not  only  in 
ordinary    cases    of  repeating   by   rote,    but    still    more 
strikingly  m   that   extraordinary    memory   which    some 
exhibit,  and  which  is  almost  always  of  a  mechanical 
character.      Fc.-  example,   the  scholarly  Scottish   poet 
Leyden,    could  repeat   verbatim    anything,   even  a  drJ 
lega  document,  by  reading  it  once.      But  he  found  this 
mechanical  memory  inconvenient;  for,  if  he  wished  to 
recall  any  particular  point,   he  had   to  start  from   the 
t^eginning  and  repeat  the  whole  mentally  till  he  came  to 
the  passage  required.*     So  necessary  and  so  effective  is 
the  expedient  of  reinstating  the  whole  of  the  associated 
circumstances   upon    which   suggestion    depends.      An 
additional  illustration  of  this  is  afforded  by  the  amusiiw 


•Abercrombie's  IntelUctual  Powtrs,  p.  47. 


T 


2  So 


PsycJioIogy. 


11  fi. 


but  si:;jnlficant  fact,  tlmt  instances  arc  on  record  of  a 
man  doing  an  action  when  drunk,  wholly  unable  to 
remember  it  when  sober,  but  rccollecliny  it  at  once  on 
getting  drunk  again.* 

The  above  remarks  indicate  ihe  general  explanation  of 
hypnotic  phenomena,  which  seems  to  be  demanded  by 
the  present  state  of  our  knosvledge.  At  the  same  time  it 
must  not  be  concealed,  that  there  are  many  particular 
details  which  are  far  from  having  received  a  complete 
psychological  explanation;  and,  on  its  physiological  side, 
tiie  whole  subject  presents  still  a  wide  field  of  research 
for  cerebral  physiology. 

To  the  student  unfamiliar  with  the  facts,  the  general 
description  of  this  section  can  scarcely  convey  any  idea 
of  their   marvellous  nature;   but   it   was  impossible  to 
illustrate  the  subject  more  fully  without  giving  the  whole 
treatment  too  much  of  a  merely  anecdotical  character. 
A  fuller  narrative  of  the  interesting  facts  connected  with 
this  region  of  mental   life  must  be  sought  in  the  special 
literature  which  it  has  called  forth.     Some  of  this  litera- 
ture lias   been  occasionally  cited  above ;  and  it  is  con- 
stantly receiving  accessions,  either  in  the  periodicals  of 
the  day,  or  in  independent  monographs.     Dr.  Carpenter 
gives  considerablt  space  to  the  subject  in  his  Prinripks 
of  Mental  Physiology,  witli  which  may  be  compared  his 
two  lectures  jn  Mesmerism,  Spiril>Hilism,  etc.,  historicaily 
and  criticaliy  ccnsiJered.     Two  i)apers  by  Mr.  G.  Stanley 
Hall  in  J////^/ (Number  xxi.,  p.  98,  and  Number  xxx.,  p. 
170),  give  some  account  of  the  most  recent  researches 
both  in  luirope  and  in  America.     Wundt's  Physioiogisc/ie 
Psyc/ioio^ie  (Vol.  ii.,  pp.  375-8)  gives  a  sketch  of  foreign 


'Ibiit.,  p.  23S. 


Illusory  Cognitions.  281 

researches  and  literature.      It   may  be  added  thnt  the 
8oc.et.es.  recently  instituted  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic 
for  the  promotion  of  psychical  research,  will  probably  at 
least  succeed  in  collecting  a  body  of  facts  connected 
with  the  abnoniial  activities  of  mind,   free  from  those 
|mng.nat.vc  embellishments  which,  however  pardonable 
«n  the  an  of  the  story...ller,  are  falal  to  scientific  incmiry. 
Some  Idea  of  the  work  already  d.ne  by  the  Kngli.h 
Soc.ety  may  be  gained  from  the  recent  work,  Phantasms 
of  the  Lwtng,  by  Mr.  Gurney,  Mr.  Myers,  and  Mr.  Pod- 
more.     With  this  may  be  compared  four  ariicles  by  Mr 
Gurney  in  Mind  (Numbers  33,  ^(,,  46  and  47). 


T 


282 


Psychology, 


I 


\ 


CHAPTER  VI. 


w 


if 


I  1 


GENERAL  NATURE  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

'T^HE  explanation  of  our  intellectual  life  would  not 
X       be  complete,  if  we  did  not  attemp^  to  generalise 
the  detailed  analyses  through  which  we  have  gone      We 
have  traced  intelligence  gradually  evolving,  out  cf  associ- 
•    able  and  comparable  sensations,  perceptions  of  individual 
objects,  out  of  associable  and  comparable  objects,  classes 
of  those  that  resemble.     Then  we  have  seen  it  evolving 
processes,  by  which  it  extends  our  knowledge  from  indi- 
viduals to  classes,  and  from  classes  to  individuals,  with  a 
consciousness  of  the  reason   for  the  extension.      And 
lastly,   we   have   followed   it   in    its   loftier   movements, 
through  the  philosophic,  the  artistic,  the  moral,  and  the 
religious   consciousness,    seeking    the   interpretation    of 
isolated  particulars  in  the  light  of  the  universal  order 
which  they  express,  and  stripping  that  order  of  its  d'^ad 
abstractness  by  finding  it  in  the  living  particulars. 

To  sum  up,  there  is  thus  evolved  to  our  consciousness 
a  world  of  objects,  placed  over  against  ourselves,  extending 
throughout  an  immeasurable  space,  and  undergoing  alter- 
ations  during  a  limitleos  /////^-alterations  which  a"re  pi  > 
duced  in  the  objects  by  each  other  in  cons^  uence  of 
their  reciprocal  causality.  There  are,  therefore,  certain 
supreme  categories,  under  which  the  intelligible  world  i 


CeKeral  Nature  of  Knoivledge.  25)3 

tliought,  and  which  are  indicated  in  the  terms  italicised 
in  the  preceding  sentence.  These  being  the  universal 
categories  of  the  intelligible  v'orld.  their  interpretation 
involves  the  interpretation  of  the  general  nature  of  know- 
ledge.  Consequently,  we  find  that  the  problem  of  th^* 
ultimate  generalisations  of  psychology  gathers  ro.:nd 
these  categories  and  their  implications. 

The  discussion  of  this  problem  carrie.  us  into  the 
most  controverted  field  of  our  science.     The  controversy 
over  this  field  has  been  perplexed  by  being  mingled  with 
a  philosophical  question  which,  though  having  an  affinity 
with  the  psychological,  still  in  strictness  hes  wholly  be- 
yond  its  sphere.      The   philosooher  inquires  into  the 
validity  of  the  categories  as  facts  in  the  real  existence  of 
the  world.     To  the  psychologist,  on  the  other  hand,  they 
are  simply  facts  of  human  consciousness,  which  call  for 
scientific  explanation  as  far  as  the  processes  of  science 
can  be  of  service  for  this  purpose.     Accordingly,  these 
universal  factors  of  intelligence  arc  now  to  be  examined 
in  a  purely  psychological  aspect.     Even  in  this  aspect 
the  examination  has  furnished  a  subject  of  extensive 
controversy.      Among  the  innumerable  theories  which 
the  controversy  has  called  forth,  there  are  commonly 
distinguished   two   general    tendencies   of    speculation 
Without  attempting  to  describe  these  tendencies  in  a 
single  sentence,  it  may  be  said,   by  way  of  prel.nunary 
explanation,  t^at  one,  starting  from  the  assumption  of  a 
world  of  realities,  such  as  is  formed  in  our  consciousness, 
explains  all  factors  of  intelligence  as  being  alike  products 
of  these  realities.     The  otht.r  theory,  on  the  contrary, 
starts  from  seif-conscious  intelligence  as  the  piimary  fact 
of  all  science,  sees  in  the  realities  of  the  world  no  mean- 
ing  except  as  constructions  of  intelligence,  and  therefore 
refuses  to  find  in  these  realities  the  source  of  intelli-'ence 


I'- 
ll 


i^l 


1 


i 


2  84 


Psychology. 


n,!  :^  T  °^  •''"'  '™  '^"'^^"^''«  '■'  variously 

named,  for   reasons  which  will   appear  in  the  sequel. 

Rea  s,„,    En,p,nc,sm,    Sensationalism    or   Sensualism 

the  latter  ,s  d,stmgu,shed  by  such  names  as  Idealisn, 

Iranscendentaltsm,   Intuitional.sm.     Before  proceeding 

to  the  d,scuss,on  of  these  rival  systems  of  thought,  there 

are  some  terms  of  frequent  occurrence  in  the  controversy 

Tmih I'r!  ''"'"  '"'  °'  "'"■'='  "*  ''"'^^"'  ^■'''  ''«  "-'le 
I.  'Ihe  term  Intuition,  from  which  one  of  the  above 
systems  receives  ,ts  name,  expresses  etymologically  the 
act  of  lookmg  upon  (or  into ?)  anything.     As  we  seem  .0 
gam  an  nnmediate  knowledge  of  things  by  looking  at 
them,  mtu,t,on  is  very  commonly  applied,  in  general 
l.terature,  to  any  cognition  which  is  given  in  a  sudden 
flash  of  consciousness  without  the  intermediation  of  a 
lengthy  process  of  reasoning.      Now,   if  there  are  any 
knowledges  mvolved  in  the  very  nature  of  knowledge  it- 
self, they  cannot  be  the  product  of  any  cognitive  process; 
for  w.hout  them  the  process  would  Itself  be  impossible 
i'or  that  reason  they  are  called  intuitions. 

2.  Such  knowledges  are  also  said  to  be  'ramcendental. 
They  do  not  take  co-orc.nate  rank  with  other  factors  of 
knowledge,  which  are  merely  adventitious.  As  condi- 
tions essential  to  the  very  possibility  of  knowledge  thev 
may  be  said  to  transcend  all  its  adventitious  factors. 

3-  A  prwri  is  another  expression  applied  to  such 
knowledges,  especially  since  the  time  of  Kant ;  while  all 
other  constituents  of  our  knowledge  are  named  a 
posteuon*    A  cognition  a  priori h,  literally,  one  that 


•The  Germans  have  even  made  these  expressions  into  regular 
.  jeCves.  as  we  might  do  by  adopting  the  forms  ap.io.L^i 


General  Nature  of  Xncivkdge.  285 

proceeds  from  what  is  prior,  as  an  a  posfetiori cogmUon 
proceeds  from  what  is  posterior.     It  is  on  this  account 
that  arguments  have  been  distinguished  as  a  priori  or  a 
pflsteriori,  when  they  proceed  from  cause  to  effect  or  from 
effect  to  cause;  for  the  cause  is  naturally  prior.     If  I 
know  an  effect,— a  fact  or  thing  done —from  seeing  it 
done,  I  know  it  from  what  comes  last  in  regard  to  that 
thmg,— from  its  ultimate  accomplishment.      My  know- 
ledge is,  therefore,  a  posteriori.     On  the  other  hand,  if  I 
know  a  fact  before  seeing  it  done,  I  know  it  from  some 
source  prior  to  the  fact.     J\Iy  knowledge  is,  therefore,  a 
priori. 

The  former  kind  of  knowledge  is  often  spoken  of  as 
experience.  Now,  experience  is  literally  inal.  When  we 
observe  a  fact  as  it  actually  happens,  we  may  be  said 
to  have  found  it  out  by  trial;  and,  therefore,  our  know- 
ledge  of :.  is  appropriately  described  as  experiential,  or 
by  the  Greek  equivalent  empirical 

Much  of  the  knowledge,  on  which  we  act  every  day, 
is  a  priori  in  a  certain  sense.  While  I  am  writing,  I 
have  not  yet  tried  the  ink  that  is  at  the  moment  on^my 
pen ;  but  I  know  a  priori  that  it  will  leave  a  permanent 
mark  on  paper.  Still,  this  knowledge,  which,  relatively 
to  these  drops  of  ink,  is  a  priori,  is  not  absolutely  so.  It 
IS  based  on  knowledge  previously  acquired  by  ex- 
perience,—by  trying  similar  ink.  As  far  as  such  cases 
are  concerned,  therefore,  it  remains  a  question,  whether 
there  is  any  knowledge  that  is  absolutely  a prio; L 

4.  Various  other  terms  are  ap[)lied  to  a  priori 
cognitions,  describing  the  same  characteristic  from 
different  points  of  view.  {a)  They  are  called  pure, 
because  they  are  derived  from  the  intrinsic  nature  of 
intelligence,  without  the  admixture  of  anything  extrane- 
ous,     {b)  They  are,  therefore,  to   be  viewed,   not  as 


\>   '! 


I 'ft  :■, 


Hm!' 


286 


4 


t  it' 


fii 


III 


Psychology. 


exol.cs  trnn.phnted  into  the  mind  from  some  for.ma 
source;  tl.ey  .re  r.ther  native,  innate  (inborn).  (,)  0„ 
that  nccount,  ,l,cy  must  also  be  conceived  to  be  nt  tl.o 
ong,n  of  .-.ll  cognition,  to  be  original,  (i)  As  essential 
to  tbe  ,.oss,..,:,ty  of  co.,nition,  they  are  further  spol^en  of 

l""""'7i  "r'  ^'''  '"'""  "^"-'^'"^  '»  intelligence, 
tliey  „,ust  be  fotmd  in  „//  minds,  that  is,  Ihey  are 
universal.  /   ««c 

5.  Such  cognitions,  being  common  to  all  men  are 
sometimes  described  as  together  constituting  the  Conunon 
^cme.  I  h.s  expression  was  brought  into  special  promin- 
ence  m  the  hterature  of  British  philosophy  by  the  Scottish 
School;  and  the  student  will  fmd  a  learned  justification 
of  the  term,  along  with  much  interesting  information 
about  other  terms  of  kindred  meaning,  by  the  greatest 
representative  of  the  school,  Sir  ^ViIliam  Hamilton,  in 
his  edition  o{  ReicVs  Works,  Note  A,  §  5 

6    The    distinction,    drawn    between     Reason     and 
Understanding,  has  some  interest  in  the  present  connec- 
tion.    Both  terms  are  often  employed  for  intelligence  in 
general,    or   at    least,    as   already  mentioned,*  >or   the 
higher    process    of    intelligence,    namely,    comparison. 
But  along  with  this  general   meaning.  Understanding  is 
often  used,  in  a  special  sense,  to  designate  intellige;ice 
considered    merely   as    constructing   cognitions    o^    an 
enM).ncal  and   particular    nature,    while    Reason   is     in 
contrast,  applied  to  intelligence  as  furnishing,  by  its  own 
nature,  those  «/,vW  principles  which  form  the  supreme 
rategones,   the    highest    unifications   of  all    knowled.^e 
1  he    further   explanation    of  this    distinction,    with    tl.e 
modifications  which  it  has  received  from  different  writers 
would  lead,  however,  into  controversies  of  a  philosophical 


•  See  above.  Book  i.,  Part  ii.,  Chapter  il. 


General  Nature  of  Knowledge.  sSj 

conceit  I  h     r"'  '''  ''"''^'''^'  "^^^  ""''  "<«  l-e 
conceived  as   break.ng  up  the  essential    unity  of  sdf- 

conscous  .ntelligence;  for  it  is  in  virtue  of  this  unul 
that  nudl,gence  forms  the  supreme  categories  hat  li 
a  structure  to  all  experience   '  ^  ^ 

cat^^trl^f  """  ''™"^'  '°  '"^  --"-'-"  of  these 


§  '• — Self- Consciousness. 
The  previous  chapters  have  described  the  evolution  of 

dL  Itif  "'^°^'  "^  ™"°-  ^'»s--  ™'o?  h^ 

descnpt.on   it  appeared  that  the  very  earliest  sten  in 
TnTali  ;:  i;"'"'  "^^^^r--  '^  '"-onscloLrel 

-o„.edge,  to  "co;:::  ^rotL^nx  Se"; 

comdou    1        '"T'"''  '■°"''  '"'^  '"  "''^  •••='  I  become 
conscous  of  sometlung  wliich  is  not  I ;  and  the  con 

sciousness  of  that  which  is  not  r  ;.  .i 
,1  .  .  '^  ""'  t  's  the  consc busn»ss  at 

the  same  fme  of  myself.     Self  consciousness,  ther;  or 
■s  involved  ,„  the  very  beginning  of  knowledge 

Accordrngly,  self-consciousness  is   not  so  much   an 
es=ent,a    factor  of  intelligence,   as    rather  intel  gence 
e        It  cannot,  tuerefore.  be  a  product  of  procesfes  of 
nlelhgence,  themselves  products  of  non-intell igent  forces 
^or  processes  of  intelligence  without  self-co,!sciousnes, 
wu,Id  be  processes  of  tmelligence  without  intelligence; 
and   the   forces,    producing    processes  of    intelligence 
would,  though  non-intelligent  thetnselves.  h.  i„,e"°""b  e 


13; 

If- 


i 


'!S, 


ifs 

,..  J. 

1 

i< 

» 

1 1 


2S3 


rsj'c/io/oj^y. 


Bn.lnn   inlrlli.uihlo  syslom  of  fours  rrc-?!upposcs  an  in 
Ulii.^nuv,  to  whuh  it  is  rchUal.     Si, II,  ICnpiii,  isis  have 
cncloavouicHl    to    explain    scIf-.-onscJoiis    int.-Ili-.Mui.    ns 
tncMoly    one    anion-    the   innnnu«i..l.Io   pnuhi.t"^   of   tl„. 
un.vasal  forces,  which  inlclIi.^,n.•o  .(srlf  o.nst.urs   inio 
•ntolhg.l.jc  sysion,.     K  is,  therefore,  ne<  essa.v  (o  ,-onsi,h,- 
tins  theory.      Recent  expositions  will   he  louiui  ni  MilK 
/.\.;////,A//A7/   ,./    JionultoH's   JViu\Ks,'/>/,y,    Cliap.    X II    ■ 
nam's /;/,.7V/<v/>- ,/,/,/   //>,v   Note  on  Suhj.rt  aucl  Ol.j.vt 
at    the    end    of  the    vohnne ;    Spc-nrer\s    yVv//<///rv    ,-/ 
/.nv//,./,M.v,  Tart  VII..  Chapters    ,0  ,7.       The   lollowinK 
statement   contanis   the  salient  pomis  of  tlu>  ihcry   the 
la.^qnai;e    of    Mr.    Mill    being  gcneu.lly    adhered   to  as 
closely  as  possible. 

We  have  no  conception  of  mind  itself;    we   neliher 
know  nor  can    im.,oi„e  „,  cxc<«p(  as  represented   l.y  the 
succession  of  (eelm-s  which   are  called   states  of  mi.ul 
Nevertheless,   our    notion   of  mind   is   the   notion   of  a 
permanent  somcthin-  contrasted  with  the  perpetual  (lux 
of  mental  states  winch  we  refer  to  it;  hut  the  sonulhin-r 
which  we   thus   houre  as  remainin-  the  same  while  iK 
states  chan-e,  resolves  itself  into  a  i)ermanent  possibility 
oJ  these  states.      This  i^ermanent  possibility  (,f  feelin..- 
^v"^l>  'orms  my  notion  of  myself,  is  distin-mshed  houi 
t..osc  p.-nnanent  possibilities  of  sensation,   which  fu,m 
"^v  notion  of  external  objects.     The  latter  are  pennanent 
possibilities  ot  sensation  only,  while  the  former  includes 
all  kinds  ot   teeling;  and,  what  is  more  imponani    the 
former  is  a  possibility  to  me  alone,  the  latter  to  other 
beuv^s  as  well.     The  distinction  has  also, -at  least  so 
Dr.    IJain   insists,~-a   certain    correspondence  with    the 
distu^ction  between  the  ideal  and  the  actual,  between 
im.igination  and  reality. 
To  account  for  this  notion  of  self  it  is  postulated, 


MM  I 


Central  Nature  of  Knoivhdije.  289 


t1»at  the  mind 


is  c'lpalilc  of  nssofini 


,-  „      ,  '"1  nnd  of  cxpcrla- 

l'<>'>.  \\y  IhcTic  principles  the  ncliial  feelings  of  the 
present  become  associated  with  the  onre  aetnal  feelings 
of  the  past  arnl  with  possible  feehngs  expected  in  L 
future;  and  the  aggregate  thus  formed  is  the  something 
pcrnumeru  annd  <  hanges  of  feeling,_thc  self  wlm  h  we 
r-Kore  as  re.naining  the  same  while  its  n.anileslaiions 
vary. 

This  tlicory  suggests  some  obvious  criticisms. 
I.      lOxceplion    may    surely    be    (aken    to    the    inllini 
J'n>'t'«l.on  of  ot.r  knowledge  of  self.      V<,n  n.ny  predicate 
what  you   like  abont  stages  of  mental  hfe  prior  to  the 
<>n«m  of  self  knowledge,  or  of  any  other  kind  of  know- 
lc(  MC  whether  in  the  Innnan  infant,  or  in  organisms  of 
nuler  type      You  n,ny  assert  that  at  these  stages  mental 
•ro  .s  merely  a  succ:ession  of  feelings  which  never  refer 
themselves  to  any  self  who  feels  them.      JU.t  the  lin.ita- 
tion,  to  which  excepti.m  is  taken,  has  nothing  to  do  with 
•snrh   a  .stage  oi    mind  :   it  expressly   applies  to  a  self- 
conscious  nclivity  ;  and  it  asserts  that,  even  when   I  do 
knoN.  myself,  I  know  myself  merely  as  a  succession  of 
feelings.      So  far  am  I  from  knowing  myself  always  and 
only  as  £  succession  of  feelings,  that  I  never  know   nor 
ran   conceive  myself  as  such.     The  assertion  is,  in  fact 
a  contradiction  in  terms;  it  is  tantamount  to  llie  assertion,' 
Jint  I  know  myself  as  that  which  is  not  I. 

There  is,  indeed,  a  sense  in  which  the  assertion  nu'ght 
be  interpreted  as  an  awkward  exj^rcssion  of  a  truth.  A 
fee  ing,  considered  as  a  concrete  fact,  is  but  a  n.ind  or  * 
self  in  a  certam  state.  It  is  true  that  by  the  ordinary 
process  of  abstraction  we  may  give  special  attention  tc' 
11  e  state  of  feelmg  without  thinking  spec:ially  of  the  self 
|vho  feels,  just  as  we  may  withdraw  our  attention  from 
the  centre  of  a  circle  and  confine  it  specially  to  the  cir- 


;if 


I M 


290 


Psychology, 


tuniference.      B.,t  as  the  latter  abstr.iction  !s  never  sntv 
posed  to  imply  that  a  circle  can  be  known  only  by  i^ 

t  on  of  feelmg  from  the  mind  that  feels  cannot  be  under- 
stood to  mean  that  the  mind  may  be  kncvn  only  by  its 
feehngs    w.thout    reference  to    itself.       Whenever    we 
descend  from  the  dead  abstractions  of  science  to  the 
mng  facts  of  our  mental  existence,  it  becomes  obvious 
that  feehngs    thoughts,  volitions  are  merely  mind  in  its 
different  activities  and  states.      Accordingly,  when  it  is 
asserted  that  we  know  the  mind  merely  as  a  succession 
of  feehngs,  the  statement  might  be  interpreted  as  imply, 
.ng  nothmg  more  than  that,  when  I  know  myself,  I  must 
know  myself,  not  as  an  unreal  abstraction,  but  as  a  living 
real,ty-„ot  as  a  mere  indeterminate  something,  but  as  a 
being  who  knows  and  feels  and  wills 

whl^'th!i°rr"'  '•'  ""'  "■''"  ''  '"^'■'"'  •'y  "^^  ''■""••'"io" 
« inch  the  theory  imposes  on  our  knowledge  of  self     It 

assumes  that  we  may  know  certain  phenomena  called 
fee.ings  or  mental   states,  but  that  we  cannot  know  a 
being  who  feels,  a  mind  that  exists  in  these  states.     The 
truth  IS,  that  the  whole  description  is  based  on  the  an 
plication  to  self-conscious  intelligence  of  a  wholly  inap- 
plicable category-the  category  of  substance  and  quality 
1  he  self-conscious  intelligence  constructs,  by  processes 
w^ich  »^  have  analysed,  a  world  of  things  or  substances 
distinguished  by  determining  qualities:    But  the  form  in 
which  the  world  is  thus  construed  by  intelligence,  cannot 
be  reflected  on  the  construing  intelligence,  as  if  itself 
were  merely  one  of  its  oivn  constructions 

Even  the  category,  here  applied,  is  misunderstood. 
It  IS  used  as  ,f  it  implied  that  substance  is  an  unknown 
and  unknowable  something,  hid  behind  the  impenetrable 
veil  of  Its  qualities.      Without  discussing  here  how  far 


General  Nature  of  Knowledge.  29, 

P  cab  V  1'  ";?"  '"^''  ""  '"'-P-'»"on.  i.  has  no  ap. 
plicabUity  to  self-conscousness.  We  may,  indeed  if  we 
choose,  speak  o,  the  se.f  as  a  secret  that'is  inexl'i  ab" 
But  „  „  ,ery  open  secret.  There  is  nothing  that  Z 
en  apprehend  more  clearly  than  the  meaning  of  "I" 

ood      Al    tT  "l'  ""  "^^-^  ^""P'^  ">  -P--  -If- 
hood.     Al.  that  can  be  understood  by  speaking  of  the 

self  as  tne.plicable  is,  that  in  self  consciousness  we  con  e 
upon  a  fact,  beyond  which  science,  knowledge  cann"t 
go ;  for  It  ,s  the  fact  of  knowledge  itself. 

The  truth  is,  that  the  attempt  to  restrict  self-knowledge 

.US  made.     For  after  declaring  that  we  cannot  kno,o  o 

succession  of  feehngs,  Mr.  Mill  adds  in  the  immediately 
followtng  sentence,  that  our  notion  of  mind  is  the  noZ 

the?hr"":  "'"''""^-   "  '^  '"'^  -'■-  -ho-  0°    in 
the  theory  seeks  to  explain.  ^ 

II.  The  explanation,  however,  will  be  found  to  Involve 
throughout  a  begging  of  the  question  at  issue 

Jv.  \k    ""f ""'  "'"""^'*  """  ">^''  plication  will 
make  this  evident. 

(«)  The  first  of  these  postulates  is  association.  Now 
ou  -='yses  have  shown  that  the  effects  o(  association  a  e 
often  marvellous  ;  but,  after  all,  it  can  merely  associate 
It  can  link  together  this,  that,  and  the  other  feeling  h 
can  after  a  while,  make  one  suggest  another  rapidly  and 
uniformly,  even  instantaneously  and  irresistibly  But  no 
mere  association  can  create  what  is  not  cohtained  in  ay 
of  the  associated  states.  These  remain  this,  that  and 
the  other  feeling  to  the  end.  Certainly  no  „,t  It ,  ii  ' 
of  feehngs  can,  simply  by  the  fact  of  their  being  a       ' 


i  i.. 


'If 


I 


h 


2g2 


Psychology, 


fW 


W  The  other  postulate,  that  the  mind  i,  capable  of 
expectation   ,s  still  more  obviously  out  of  the  quesUon 
o    expecanon  is  inconceivable  without  self-conscious-' 

men.  onv  ■'"^"'?'  ""'''°>''''  ^^  ^'-  '"'"  i"  'he  ^'-"e- 
e;,o„  ,'h  rf  "''  ""'^''"'  "'^  -^-"ivability.  The 
as  e  t,on  that  "  the  mind  is  capable  of  expectation  "  is 
">ten,g,bie  only  on  the  supposition  that  t  e  expec  in. 
m-nd  ,s  already  self  conscious,  is  able  to  in.agine  i  self 
fee  ng  m  the  future.  But  it  should  not  be  forgotten 
.hat,  on  th,s  theory,  the  expecting  mind,  not  being  v" 

:::zt ;?  ^^'f---— .  ^^  at  any  mo;;: 

merely  a  feelmg   or  a  cluster  of  co-existent   fcelin.s 
Conseq„endy,  the  postulate,  expressed  with  strict  regard 

ellect  that  a  feehng  or  a  cluster  of  feelings  is  capable  of 
expecmg  o.her  feelings  in  the  future.  It  may  Lrly  be 
presumed  that  in  this  form  the  postulate  would  have 
placed  uself  beyond  the  necessity  of  criticism. 

bilLn  'f  '""'1'"°"  °f  "'^  ">'"J  =>'  a  permanent  po.si- 

■n    hi!  ,h      "'  ''i""'"^^  P°'"'  dem.,nding  consideration 
m  this  theory.      The  term  posMilily  is,  indeed    some 
what  vague;  but,  in  any  sense,  it  can  be  taken  'o       a 

abstract,  namely,  >„„..     Now,  on  any  empirical  theorv 

'    "e  :Lr  "'."^  ^-^"^  ''^'^>  cause,  deduces  itsHf! 
.      we  shall   see,*  to  an   uniform   antecedence.      Bu 
evidently  this  idea  has  no  annlication  in  ,!,„ 
ra=o     Tka      lu  ippucation  in  the  present 

a  mental  state  proceeds,  is,  for  the  empiricist,  the  state 
or  cluster  of  states  forming  i,s  antecedent.     Empiri     m 


*  See  §  5  of  this  chapter. 


General  Nature  of  Knowledge.  293 

o  these  deler„,„„ng  antecedents,  the  self  enters  into  the 

causation.      And  yet,  on  any  other  interpretation,  it  is 
d  ffic.lt  tocon,,rehend  what  is  meant  by  speaking  o^Z 
mind  as  a  permanent  possibility  of  feeling 
The  fact  is,  as  already  urged,  that  the  categories  by 

"ittsl  :  If:""'""  '"""'^'^"-  Sives  or/er  to'th 
succession  of  phenomena,  are  not  the  qualifications  by 
which  that  intelligence  is  itself  described.      It  Is  true 
that  I  as  an  individual  person,  distinguish  myself  from 
other  individuals  by  the  particular  current  of  fe  lings  and 
thoughts  which  make  up  my  mental  iife.      But  !n  the 
selfconsciousness,  which  characterises  that  life,  there  is 
a  principle  implied,  which  cannot  be  conceived  as  itself 
a  mere  product  in  time  of  any  temporal  association  of 
phenomena.      It  is  but  due  to  Mr.  Mill  .0  observe  that 
he  himself  admits  the  intrinsic  inconceivability  of  his 

bsin':  .h     .'   "^"'  °'  consciousness."  he  'says  in 
closing  the   discussion,    "  which  composes   the   mind's 
Phenomenal  iife,  consists  not  only  of  present  sens^ions 
but   likewise,   ,n  part,   of  memories  and   expectations 
Now  what  are  these  ?      In  themselves,  they  are  present 
feelings,   states  of  present   consciousness,  and  in  tha 
respect  not  distinguished  from  sensations.      Thev  all 
moreover,  resemble  some  given  sensations  orfeelings,  of 
«h.ch  we  have  previously  had  experience.     Eat  they  a^e 

«1  ended  with  the  peculiarity  that  each  of  them  involve! 

a  belief  in  more  than  its  own  present  existence.     A  si" 

sation  involves  only  this  .-  but  a  remembrance  of  sensa- 
lon,  even  ,f  not  referred  to  any  particular  date,  involves 

the  suggestion  and  belief  that  a  sensation,  of  which  i,  U 
representation, 


a 


Ily  existed  in  th( 


i*': 


and  an  expectation   involves  the   hpiipf 


past 


more  or  less 


I 


29+ 


Psychology. 


JI 


posu.ye.  that  a  sensation  o.  other  feeling  to  which  It 
d.rec.ly  refers  will  exist  in  the  future.  Nor  can  .1  e 
P  enomena  mvolved  in.  these  two  states  of  consciousnes 

thev  tTul  '  ?rr'  *'""•"  '"^'"S  «".-..  the  belief 
elf  a^Hn     '1    "  \  -"^^^'f  f°™e"y  had,  or  that  I  „,,.. 

remembered  or  expected.     The  fact  believed  is,  that  the 
s ensa  ,ons  d,d  actually  form,  or  will  hereafter  f;,m,  par 

sens'lln,       .i"'  remembrance  or  expectation  of  those 

: "t^rMiLraTeLTf"';-  '^'  "■"^^-^-  "^ 

to  complete  the  s=atre;rCc:inSi:f;e:LTf 

whtch  .s  aware  of  itself  as  past  and  future  :  and  tTafe 
reduced  to  the  alternative  of  believing  that  the  Mind  or 
Ego  .s  somethmg  different  from  any  series  of  feelings'  o 
poss,b,h.,es  of  them,  or  of  accepting  the  paradox    t'h" 
somethmg  which  «  /,^.M.«is  but  a  serie's  of  feeling 
can  be  aware  of  itself  as  a  series.     .     .  The  ,n,!: 

.ncomprehensibility  perhaps  is,  that  something  which  h 
ceased,  or  ,s  not  yet  in  existence,  can  still  be    in  a 

greater  part  of  wh.ch  ,s  past  or  future,  can  be  gatlared 
up,  as  u  were  into  a  single  present  concep.ion,'a    om 
pan,ed  by  a  behef  of  reality.      I  think  by  far  tie  widest 
t  .ng  we  can  do  is  to  accept  the  inexplicable  fact,  w   h 
out  any  theory  of  how  it  takes  place  » 

No  one  can  fail  to  be  impressed  with  the  fairness  of 
sp.r. ,  wh,ch  characterises  this  exposition  by  Mr  Ml  o 
.he  mconcetvability  attaching  to  his  theory.      The  ex 
pos,t,on  nnphcitly  contains  most  of  the  criticism  whid," 
hs  section  has  passed  upon  the  theory;  for  it  admit 
l;  ;*-"-ousness  cannot  be  conceived  as  constru"t 
ed  1,)  an  association  of  successive  sensations.     The  full 


General  Nature  of  Knozvlcdg,.  jpj 

empmcsn,  m  p  ycl.ology  ,s  virtually  abandoned. 

.I.e  po,.Ze  of  "'"'  °f-'fconsciousness  assumes,  in 
tint  thl  1      0  expectation,  even  if  in  no  other  resp;ct 

«   o  se  ;"  W°"r?  °'  "'"^  P'^^^""  'he  conscfou  1 
assun^,  t  oi    ^^  ^''"'  """  '""^'-^^  ">^  '-ability  of  this 


m 


%  2.— Time, 

The    consciotfsness    of  time    is   pvnT-,fn«^  .%. 

empinca.  theor,.   as    generated   by  T^tZr^ 
consc,o„,  states.     Probably  the  fulLt  exposition  of  tl^ 
^eory  ,n  recent  tnnes  is  that  of  Mr.  Herbert  Spence^^ 
H,s  exposition  may  be  summed  up  thus  •_ 
r.t,l  ^r  "'^<^°"'<='>'"5"ess  of  successive  states  one  nart 

The  :t ::';'""''  *'  "^  '""'"""^  --^ '"-  ---so 

site  A    bt  a"""''  '"  "'"'"°"""^^''  "<"  -  the  isolated 
state  A,  but  as  pr,o,  to  its  consequent  B.     A<.ain    B 
appears  as  posterior  to  A.  and  prior  to  some  third  st'a.e 
C ;^and  so  on  „.th  .he  other  factors  of  any  consciou; 

II.  Now,  suppose,  «  often  happens   in  actual  con 
scousness,  two  states  .eparaled,  first  by  a  brie    n  erv^T 

hour  a'/      ''"'"    '  ""  '"'"™'  '°"°^^  ^""'  -^"^  -  »" 
our,  a  day,  or  a  year.    Here  we  have  the  sa,„.  conscious 

states  separated  by  .^n^t  intervals.     We  are  thus  led 


c>:.":;;^;ir";^'',:!:-:  -—  ««-s.,y. 


296 


Psychology. 


to  distinguish  the  intervals  from  the  states  they  separate, 
-to  form  the  abstract  idea  of  succession,  thai  is,  of  timl. 
Ihis  abstraction  may  also  be  created,  or,  if  already 
created,  may  be  confirmed,  by  the  fact,  that  different  ^^x^ 
of  conscious  states  may  be  separated  by  the  .^.v/.  interval 
of  lime.  Thus  an  odour  and  then  a  taste,  a  colour  and 
then  a  sound,  a  sorrow  and  then  a  fit  of  anger,  may 
follow  one  another,  each  at  the  interval  of  a  second  or 
an  hour  or  a  day  or  any  other  definite  period. 

The    theory,    thus    sketched,    explains,    if   such   an 
explanation  were  necessary,  how,  ,o/e,,«  the  .  .nsciousness 
of  our  feelings  being  related  in  time,  we  m.y  separate 
the  idea  of  time  from  the  feelings;  that  is.  it  explains 
how,  from  the  consciousness  of  feelings  being  successive, 
we  may  form  the  abstract  idea  of  succession.     But  it 
does  not  begin  to  explain  how  we  first  become  conscious 
of  the  concrete  fact,  that  our  feelings  are   not   merely 
feelings,  but  are  related  as  consecutive  or  as  contem- 
poraneous.    For  the  proposition,  with  which  the  theory 
starts,  IS  either  untrue  or  an  assumption  of  the  point  at 
issue.     The  proposition  is  untrue,  if  it  be  taken  to  mean 
that  the  fact  of  succession  is  a  part  of  the  successive 
feelings,  of  which  we  are  conscious.     I  am  conscious  of 
one  feeling,  then  of  another;  but  in  the  one  or  the  other 
there  is  nothing  to  tell  that  it  comes  before  or  after     Do 
I  taste  time,  or  smell  it,  or  touch  it  with  my  fingertips 
or  see  it  m  colours,  or  feel  it  when  I  am  roused  into 
anger  or  melted  into  tenderness  ? 

^  But  it  may  perhaps  be  .rg.J  tiiut,  though  no  feeling  is 
Itself  a  consciousness  of  time,  yet  the  association  and 
mutual  suggestion  of  feelings  form  this  consciousness 
Need  It  be  repeated  that  association  can  merely  associate? 
It  can  give  us  a  taste  a?id  an  odour,  a  colour  and  a 
sound,   etc. ;    and,   if  prolonged,   it  may  produce   an 


General  Nature  of  Knowledge.  29; 

irresistible  and  instantaneous  suggestion.      But  the  fact 

of  one  sensati(;„   being  suggested  by  another,  however 

irresistibly  and  instantaneously,  is  not  the  consciousness 

of  their  being  related  as  prior  and  posterior ;  it  is  simply 

the  consciousness  of  one  sensation,  then  of  another;  it  is 

not  the  consciousness  of  any  relation  whatever  between 
them. 

But  in  a  certain  sense  it  is  true,  that  the  fact  of  their 
succession  is  a  part  of  the   whole  fact  of  which  we  are 
conscious  in  a  series  of  feelings.      Only  the  proposition 
is  not  true  in  the  sense  which  the  theory  requires.     The 
consciousness  of  their  succession  is  a  wholly  difTerent  act 
from  the  consciousness  involved  in  the  successive  feelings 
themselves.   It  implies  that  consciousness  is  not  restricte°d 
to  feelings,  but  goes  beyond  them,  and  compares  them 
with  one  another.      Now,  how  is  such  a  consciousness 
possible  ?     If  our  mental  life  be  merely  a  succession  of 
feelmgs.  if  the  consciousness  of  each  moment  absolutely 
vanishes  as  that   moment   passes  away,  there   can   be 
no  principle  in  consciousness  to  connect  the  different 
moments  by  a  comparison  wnlch  goes  beyond  each  and 
cognises  its  relation  of  priority  or  posterity  to  others.    For 
this  there  must  be  some  permanent  factor  of  conscious- 
ness,— a  factor  that  is  out  of  the  succession  which  it 
observes.    That  factor  is  self-consciousness;  arid  without 
selfconsciousness  the  consciousness  of  time  is  thus  seen 
to  be  impossible. 

Thus  also  memory  is  explained.  For  memory  is  some- 
thing more  than  mere  suggestion,  with  which  it  seems  at 
limes  to  be  confounded  in  a  purely  empirical  psychology. 
By  memory  is  meant,  not  merely  the  representation  of  a 
former  presentation,  called  up  by  the  Laws  of  Association. 
It  is  a  representation  accompanied  by  the  consciousness 
that  it  M  a  representation  of  what  was  formerly  present. 


Mil 


.i,: 


298 


Psychology, 


MMory  therefore  .mplies  a  higher  function  of  the  mind 
than  a  bare  association.  It  is  the  higher  innl^^ti 
c-mpanson  applied  to  the  suggesiions  of  the  pTs  a' 
percep„on  .s  an  interpretation  by  thought  o    he  Iset 

a.anin.erp4tio„^o;Thrr:;r:f.iru;tr:o 

conscousness  by  associations  formed  before       I M.  » 

P^e  e.  e7  in  '"^  •""'"  representations  ^-ere  previously 
presented  in  consciousness.      Wt  can  ^h^r^(  7 

haps  be  suggestion  of  one  fee  i^7b;Ln  h''  "k'°  "  ''"■ 
could  be  no  niemorv     v  ^  ^      °"'"'  ''"'  'here 

.hat  I.  ren^enrelTin  t;^ ^  X  ^°"T'°-"- 
«!plf  nf  fk^  present,  am  identica  with  mv 

sell  ot  the  past  remenibererl       'ri,     •  .  ^ 

~,on.„,en,irtcar:L/o":irr;t:;^;r; 


General  Nature  of  Knowledge.  299 


§  3* — Space, 

fro.,,    ,he   position,   that  all   ideas   of   space    mav   he 
■nterpreted  in  terms  of  muscular  sensibilityVnd  t^me     I 

eory,  the  idea  of  space  pre-supposes  that  of  time  ■  so 
hat  ,t  ,s  possible  ,0  admit  the  empirical  origin  of 'the 
ormer.  wh, le  denying  that  of  the  latL.     To  expWn   he 
fundamental  position  of  the  theory,  it  is  to  be  obs  rved 
hat  every  notton  of  space  n.ay  be  described  as  referring 
o  a  possible  series  of  musclar  sensations  in  alivef 
•■me.     Is  the  particular  notion  that  of  magnitude  ?  then 
suppose  for  example,  I  am  thinking  that  the  desk  befor^ 
me  ,s  larger  than  the  book  lying  on  it,  my  thought 
.mpiies   that   a   longer  or  quicker  series  of  mu"  ula 
sensations  would  be  experienced  in  passing  the  hand 
over  the  surface  of  .he  one  than  in  passing  It  over  that 
o    the  other.      Again,  is  the  particular  notion  Zl^ol 
distance?  then  suppose,  by  way  of  illustration,  I  perceive 
.his   house   to   be   nearer  than   yonder   mountain    1 
P-rcep,on   means  that  a  longer  or  quicker  series  of 
muscular  sensations  would  be  felt  in  reaching  the  one 
than  in  reaching  the  other. 

.n'ce"'rhe  '™"'-"'-'   '"'"P^^""'""   °f  our  notions  of 
l^pace,    the   empiricist  proceeds  to  the  fact   that  space 

ui.pl.es  more  than  a  succesdon  of  sensations;  it  impi ,U  a 

c.e.,s,ence  of   positions.     I  conceive   that   the   S ms 

uccessively   occupied    by   my    hand   or   my    body    n' 

traversing  a  space,  du  not  vanish  ou,  of  existence,  bu" 

continue  to  exist  when  my   hand  or  my  body  has  left 


il 
r 


300 


Psychology. 


hem.  How  ,s  th,s  additional  notion  to  be  explained? 
lartly  by  the  fact,  that  we  can  feel  simultaneous 
sensat.ons  of  toucli  corresponding  to  the  points  succes- 
■s.vely  touched  during  the  series  of  muscular  sensations 
experienced  tn  traversing  a  tangible  surface.     Still  more 

"lly,  however,  is  this  notion  of  simult.ineity  developed 
by  simultaneous  sensations  of  sight,  as  these  can  compass 

11  ?J'f  "'?'  °'  '""■''="•  '"  '■'■^''  Mr-  Mill  at  least 
holds  that,  without  the  aid  of  sight,  in  other  words,  to 
the  congenitally  blind,  ideas  of  space  can  never  imply 
more  than  a  mere  succession  of  muscular  feelings.  B„t 
perhaps  the  idea  of  points  successively  touched  being 
co-ex,stent  would  be  most  unequivocally  suggested  to  the 
order       ""^         '^ '"  '■^'"'"  ""^  '"'^'  of  touches  in  any 

The  different    points,   simultaneously    discerned   by 
ouch   and   sight,  or  thought   as   co-existent   by    being 
touched  m  different  orders,  become  thus  the  symbols  of 
different   stages  ,„  a  series  o(  muscular  sensations   by 
bemg   associated   with  them.      Finally,    by   abstraction 
hese  different  points  or  positions  may  be  dissociated  in 
thought  from  the  muscular  sensations  with  which  thev 
were  origmally  associated,  and  which  they  originally  re 
presented.     We   thus   reach    the  abstract  idea   of  co- 
existent positions,  that  is,  of  space.     For  space  as  iu 
dicated  especially  by  the  German  term  R„,L,  ^^^^ 

possiir    "   ^'*"'   '"    "''''^''   "'"^™'-    -"'-   ■' 
The  opponents  of  the  older  empiricism  have  usually 


i„'jKrt'°"°'  "'""'='">'  "'"  '>=  fo-O.  a-o„g  other  places 


General  Nature  of  Knowledge  301 

contended  that  its  genesis  of  this  notion  assumes  im- 
phcitly  the  existence  of  the  notion  before  the  process  of 
origination  begins.  The  more  recent  empiricists,  how- 
ever, ascribe  the  imperfection  of  the  old  empirical  theory 
to  the  fact  that  it  failed  to  recognise  the  function  of  the 
muscular  sense  in  the  development  of  this  notion.  But 
It  is  difiicult  to  see  how  the  introduction  of  this  new 
factor  into  the  development  evades  the  old  charge.  For 
in  educing  the  notion  of  space  from  muscular  sensations, 
It  must  not  be  su{)posed  that  these  are  anything  but  sen- 
sations. 'J1iey  are,  of  course,  distinguishable  in  con- 
sciousness from  other  sensations— from  tastes,  sounds, 
colours— as  tlicse  are  from  one  another.  Different 
muscular  sensations  also  are  distinguishable  from  one 
another  in  intensity,  in  duration,  and  in  other  respects  ; 
but  still  they  are  only  sensations. 

Now,  the  problem   is  to  explain  how  such  sensations 
become    objective    relations— of  distance,    magnitude, 
situation— between  things.     In  solving  this  problem  we 
must  not  describe  these  sensations  as  if  they  were  already 
such  objective  relations.     But  descriptions  of  this  pur- 
port seem  hardly  avoidable.     Some  muscular  sensations, 
for  example,  are  spoken  of,  and  with  propriety,  as  "sen-, 
sations  of  movement."      Yet  this  language  is  apt  to  be 
used  as  implying  that  a  muscular  sensation  is  a  conscious- 
ness  of  movement,  and  therefore  of  the  space  through 
which  the  moving  body  passes ;  but  this  consciousness 
is  not  really  involved  in  muscular  sensations,  or  in  any 
other  sensations  as  such.    Occasionally  in  the  discussion 
of  this  subject  phrases  are  employed  with  less  justifica- 
tion,  as  when  "consciousness  of  position,"  or  "position" 
simply,  is  made  to  stand  as  an  equivalent  for  any  sensa. 
tion  of  touch. 


302 


Psychology. 


self    and  that  ,s  necessary  ,„  order  to  conceive  a  rela- 
""  <"  'P."".  °^  of  ^ny  other  sort.     Here  again   dec 
ore,  en,p,r,c,sn,  falls  into  its  general  confusion  be  tn 
ensattons,  whether  isolated  or  associated,  and"he  a     of 
el  -conscious  thought  by  which  sensation   are  compared 

hcory  on  the  notion  of  space  falls  into  the  special  mis 
.a  e  of  confounding   the  sensations  associated  with  a 

exercise  and  the  notion  of  smr^     Tf  ,-c 

tivvu  ui  bpace.     It  IS  quite  true  ihnf  na 

can  tnterpret  space  in  terms  of  muscuL  sensa  i  n      d 

no  o:.  o  ;z  ;:.Te:  d" "''  ''"^'''''  ""^  °- 

.ha.  notion      In  the      ;Tch„7'  'TT  "'  ~"^'""'« 

;hown  that  so.idity.^:isti:^s:ti^:  iL^rofspi: 

become  associated  with  visual  sensations,  ai^d   here  o  e 
rresistib  y  suggested  by  them.     In  like  manner  they  ne 
associabJe  wjth,  and  su£rfT^«!M-hi«  k  ,  ^ 

whole  question.     The  feelincr  exriiPH  K     i  ^ 

of  a  muscle  is  nnf  fh.  .         ■  ^^  ^'^^  movement 

How  r  r  kl        .      consciousness  of  a  muscle  movin.^ 
■now  ao  1  know  that  mnqnnlor  r^^i.-       •      ,.  "^"^"'a- 

muscle  which  fill  s Lee   '-"rt  ^  '"''*''  "''^^^"  "' 

masses  may  movV'Not'frm  "  ''"""  '"  ""^'^  '"'^^^ 
or  associated.  For  s,«ce  slTrT""' "'""  ''°'"'^-'* 
ieciive  st-ite  or  T  ^^^'"^'  "  '^  "o'  «  sub- 

J  state,  or  an  assoc.at.on  of  subjective  states.     It  is 


General  Nature  of  Kncni'ledge.  303 

a  relntion  of  objects ;  and,  as  a  relation,  it  can  be  Icno«n 
only  by  comparison. 

Once  obtained,  the  notion  of  space  may  become 
r.ssociated,  and  that  inseparably,  with  sensations.  With 
what  sensations?  It  is  hard  to  answer  defmitely,  if  vve 
mean  the  sensations  with  which  alone  the  notion  asso- 
ciates. But  It  seems  as  if  the  organs  of  touch  and  sight, 
by  the  sub-division  of  their  terminal  Hbres,  were  peculiarW 
adapted  for  suggesting  that  reciprocal  outness,  which 
constitutes  spatial  relation. 

^    Once  a   sensation    is    associated   with   locality,    the 
mseparableness  of  the  association,  and  the  irresistibility 
of  the  consequent  suggestion,  are  remarkable.     The  loss 
of  an   arm    or   leg   might    be   expected   to   break   the 
association,  and  to  arrest  the  suggestion  of  these  parts  of 
the  organism  ;  but  when  any  irritation  is  set  up  in  the 
trunk  of  a  nerve  which  formerly  extended  to  a  lost  limb, 
the  irritation  continues   to   be  felt  as  if  at  the  former 
termination  of  the  nerve.    What  is  still  more  astonishing, 
the   same    suggestion    is    observed    even    in   cas-s   of 
congenital  imperfection.    For  instance,  a  girl  of  nineteen 
years,  in  whom  all  the  metacarpal  bones  of  the  left  hand 
were  very  short,  and  the  bones  of  ail  the  phalanges  on 
hat  hand  entirely  awanting,  used  to  experience  sensations 
that  seemed  to  be  in  the  palm  and  fingers  of  a  hand  that 
never  existed,  as  well  as  in  the  right  hand  which  she 
had.* 

Some  other  problems  with  regard  to  spare  and  Mme 
w:il  be  more  appropriately  discussed  at  the  close  of  next 
section. 


i  i-\\ 


n  11? 


Some  notice  of  such  cases  will  be  found  in  M 'Cosh's  D.fenji 
of  Fundamental  Truth,  p.  164.  Dr.  M'Cosh  quotes  the  iLcr. 
ionum/ur  Anatoniie  and  Physiologic  tot  1836,  p.  330. 


"4m^\ 


U\l 


304 


Psychology, 


I 


§  4* — Substance. 

The  cosmos,  tbat  is  unfolded  to  self  conscious  fntelli. 
gence,  is  a  world  of  M/,;;-,,  objects,  substances.  It  is  this 
aspect  ot  the  world  of  consciousness,  that  now  demands 
consideration. 

The  empirical  theory  on  the  notion  of  substance  has 
not  advanced  since  the  time  of  Locke.      A  number  of 
simple  ideas,  Locke  explains,  are  found  to  occur  to-ether  • 
in  more  modern  language  we  should  say,  that  a  munber 
of  sensations  are  uniformly  associated  in  our  experience 
On  the  ground  of  this  association,  we  become  accustomed 
to  think  of  them  as  connected  by  some  real   bond,  this 
habit  being  confirmed  by  the  fact  that  such  aggregates  of 
simple  ideas  or  sensations  are  commonly  distinguished 
by  a  single  name.* 

Here  again  the   empiricist   must   be  reminded   that 
association  simply  associates.      One  sensation  may.  by 
uniform  association,   be  made  to  suggest  others,  even 
instantaneously  and  irresistibly ;  but  that  is  not  the  idea 
of  substance.      For  in  any  number  of  sensations,  how- 
ever  long  associated  and  however  powerfully  sugcrestive 
o  each  other,  we  have  not  yet  got  an  objective  world  at 
all.     I  his  IS  apt  to  be  concealed  by  the  imperfection  and 
ambiguity  of  Locke's  language,  in   which   "sensation" 
and  "Idea  of  a  quality"  are  confounded.    But  sensations 
are  the  states  of  a  subject,  and  contain  in  themselves  no 
reference  to  an   object.      Tastes,   touches,  colours  are 
merely  tastes,  touches,  colours ;  they  are  not  the  con- 
sciousness of  a  thing  sapid,  tangible,  coloured.    Whenever 
we  describe  them  as  qualities  or  ideas  of  qualities  we 
assume  the  point  at  issue,-we  take  for  granted  the  exis- 
tence of  the  notion  of  a  substance  to  which  they  belon- 
for  quality  has  no  meaning  apart  from  a  thing  qualified.' 

•  See  Locke's  Essay,  Book  ii.,  Chap.  23. 


General  Nature  of  Knowledge,  .05 

It  is  a  striking  proof  of  the  impossibility  of  eliciting 
this  Idea  from  sensations,  that  Hume,  on  the  empinral 
principles   of    Locke,    denies    not    only    the    objective 
^ahdity  of  the  idea,  but  even  its  very  existence,  on  the 
ground  that  there  is  no  sensation,*  from  which  it  could 
be  derived.    The  empiricists  of  the  present  day  gcncMlIy 
accept  Hume's  doctrine,  but  proceed  in  defiance  of  it  by 
starting  from  an  object  outside  of  consciousness,-a  sub- 
stance  or  force,-as  the  generator  of  consciousness  itself. 
If  we  cannot  trace  the  notion  of  substance  to  sensa- 
tions. Its  origin  must  be  sought  in  some  other  factor  of 
consciousness.     To  do  this,  let  us  observe  the  import  of 
the  notion.      We  are  accustomed,  as  Locke  puts  it,  to 
suppose  that  the  qualities,   represented   by  our  simple 
Ideas,    are   connected    by    some   bond.       Even    Hume 
acknowledges,  that  "they  are  commonly  refeired  to  an 
unknown    something,    in    which    they   are    supposed    to 
mhere  ;  or  granting  this  fiction  does  not  take  place,  are 
at  least  supposed  to  be  closely  and  inseparably  connected 
by  the  relations  of  contiguity  and  causation."     That  is 
to   say,    that   the    world,    which    unrolls    itself   before 
conscious  intelligence,   is  conceived  not  as  a  series  of 
vanishing  sensations,  but  as  a  system  of  thin^^s  which, 
with  all  their  variableness,  are  endowed  with  a  certain 
permanence.      How   comes    it   that   the    world    shape«» 
Itself  thus  to  intelligence?     It  arises  from  the  fact,  that 
otherwise  the.e  would  be  no  intelligible  world  at  all  •  it 
IS  therefore  the  form  of  the  world,  that  is  implied  in  [he 
very  nature  of  intelligence.     For  to  be  intelligent  is  to 
be  selfconscous;  and  to  be  conscious  of  self  is  to  be 
conscious  of  notself.     Consequently,    the    very   act   of 


•  Impression  is  Hume's  name  for  sensation.    See  Hume's  TrealUt 
9/ Human  Nature,  Book  i,.  Part  i.,  c^ction  6. 


3o6 


Psychohgy. 


[Kf*  3  ' . ' 


fi 


If"' 

1       1 


i..t.,.  ,ence,  by  which  we  are  conscious  of  sensation,, 
projocts  Ibese   into  an    objective  sphere,    transmuting 
Hem  ,n,o  qua ht.es  of  objects,  and  thus  forming  out  of 
them  a  world  that  is  not  ourselves 

Accordingly,    i„  their   psychological  aspect  at  least 
qual,.,es  are  s.mply  the  form  in  which  self-conscious  \l 
tdhgence  construes  sensations.     By  a  similar  construe 
tion  s  formed  the  notion  of  substance  as  that  unity  by 
whtch  quaht.esare  essentially  connected,  and  which  ri 
mams  unaltered  an.id  their  changes.     For  the  variable 
ele,nents-the  quali.ies-of  things  in  the  world  of  cot 
sc.o«sness  can  be  conceived,  even  as  variable,  only  by 
re,at,on  to  that  which  is  permanent.     The  very  condi- 
tions, under  which  alone  an  intelligible  universe  can  bl 
conceived,  render  necessary  the  notion  of  substances  as 
endur.ng  while  their  qualities  change. 

And  here  perhaps  we  find  also  the  source  of  those  two 
supreme  forms  under  which  the  objective  world  is  con- 
ce,yed-,he  world  of  objects  co-exis.ing  in  space  and 
undergomg  successive  modifications  in  time.  For  he 
wor  d  takes  Us  intelligible  form  from  its  being  posited  by 

srTot'"°""°"^°^"^'''^— '"=-'--^' 

•dent.ty.  It  ,s  the  opposite  of  the  identical  factor  of 
consciousness ;  ,t  is  a  construction  of  factors  which  are 
necessarily  thought  as  varying,  «.,  as  in  time 

unity'' Whl''"  "^  "°'""  ''  """S"^'^^  -  ='>»'"'e 
unit  .     Whatever  relative  unity  may  be  ascribed  to  it  it 

must  still,  as  opposed  to  the  absolutely  simple  facto  'o 

consciousness  be  thought  as  essent,  aiy  „,an!fold.     Th" 

■s  merely  another  way  of  s.nying  that  it  mu.t  be  though 

no    s  0"e  ,nd.v,s,ble  whole,  but  as  composed  of  disii 

raits-of  parts  that  are   mutually  exclusive.     But   ih. 


General  Nature  of  Knowledge,  307 

relation  of  mutual  externality  between  co-existent  things 
IS  si)ace. 

Space  and  time  would  thus  appear  to  be  forms  in 
which  the  world  must  necessarily  be  conceived  in  order 
to  be  intelligible-in  order  to  be  an  object  to  self-con- 
scous   intelligence.     This    view   of  these   forms   takes 
away  the  ground  from  the  puzzles  which  have  been  ofr^n 
built  upo.i  them  since  the  time  of  the  Eleatic  Zeno      It 
has  been  often  maintained,  even  in  recent  limes,  that 
human  mtelligence  is  the  helpless  victim  of  a  mysterious 
antinomy  or  contradiction  in  applying  the  notions  of 
space  and  time;  and  from  this  alleged  fact  various  meta- 
physical inferences  have  been  drawn  with  regard  to  the 
intrinsic  impotence  and  limitation  of  our  intelligence 
Ihis  IS  not  the  place  to  enter  upon  the  metaphysical 
aspects  of  the  problems  involved  in  this  doctrine,  but  in 
so  far  as  the  doctrine  bears  upon  the  notions  of  space 
and  time  as  psychological  phenomena,  a  few  words  of 
explanation  are  required. 

The  doctrine  in  question  asserts  that  it  is  impossible 
to  conceive  time  and  space  as,  on  the  one  hand,  uncon- 
ditionally infinite  or  unconditionally  finite,   as,   on   the 
other  hand,  infinitely  divisible  or  absolutely  indivisible 
However  far  you  may  stretch  the  imagination  into  the 
regions  of  space,  into  the  past  or  the  future  of  time  you 
cannot  touch  in  thought  an  absolute  limit-a  limit  be 
yond  which  there  can  be  conceived  to  be  no  space  01 
time.     Repelled  from  the  conception  of  such  a  limit 
you  endeavour  to  conceive  space  or  time  as  absolutely 
unlimited;  but  you  find  that  thought  sinks  exhausted  in 
the  effort  to  compass  this  conception.     Again,  if  time 
and  space  are  broken  up  into  parts,  it  is  found  impos- 
sible,  on  the  one  hand,  to  imagine  a  portion  of  either  so 
small  that  it  cannot  be  divided  into  portions  smaller  still 


308 


Psychology, 


\^. 


I 


'if  *i 


on  the  other  hand,  to  carry  any  portion  of  time  or  space 
to  an  infinite  division  in  thought.* 

Notwithstanding  the  high  authority  under  which  these 
perplexities  have  been  propounded,  it  does  seem   that 
they  unply  a  misapprehension  regarding  the  nature  ol 
the  notions  upon  which  they  play.     It  is  quite  true  that 
we  cannot  think  an  absolute  limit  to  space  or  time, 
while  we  are  equally  unable  to  think  of  them   as  ab- 
soluiely  unlimited       But   the  reason  of  this  is  to  be 
sought  in  no  mysterious  impotence,  which  restricts  in  a 
special  manner  the  finite  intellect  of  man.     The  impot- 
ence arises  from  the  fundamental  condition  of  all  think- 
>ng— the  law  which  prevents  thought  from  contradicting, 
and  thereby  removing,  its  own  positions.     For  space  and 
time  are,  as  we  have  seen,  forms  of  relation ;  and  to  ask 
us  to  conceive   them   under   those   modes,    which    the 
doctrine  in  question  pronounces  inconceivable,  would  be 
to  require  the  conception  of  a  relative  which  is  not  re- 
lated to  anything. 

Take,  by  way  of  illlustration,  the  idea  of  a  space 
absolutely  limited.  Space  is  a  relation  of  mutual  out- 
ness; the  very  idea  of  space  implies  that  every  space  has 
something  outside  of  it.  But  a  space  with  an  absolute 
hmit  would  be  a  space,  to  which  there  is  nothing  outside, 
—a  space  that  is  not  a  space  at  all.  So,  time  mean.-  \ 
relation  to  a  before  and  an  after.  An  absolute  limit  to 
the  past,  therefore,  would  be  a  time  with  no  before ;  an 
absolute  limit  to  the  future,  a  time  with  no  after.  But 
either  limit  would  be  a  time  that  is  not  a  time. 


♦  See  Kant's  K'ritik  of  Pure  Reason  (Chapter  on  the  Antinomy 
of  Pure  Reason);  Sir  William  Hamilton's  Discussions,^^.  13-15, 
601-9  ;  Lcct:,.es  on  Metaphysics,  Vol.  ii.,  pp.  367-374.  Compare 
Mansel's  Limits  of  Religious  Thought,  Lecture  ii.,  and  Spencer's 
Part  i.,  Chapter  iv. 


'  , 


General  Nature  of  Knowledge.  309 

Take,  again,  the  opposite  extreme  of  the  infinite.  An 
Infinite  space  or  time,  as  the  writers  on  the  subject 
exi)Iain,  is  a  conception  that  could  be  formed  only  by  the 
inliniteaddiium  in  tho•J^ht  of  fmite  sp.ices  and  times;  in 
other  words,  the  conce|)iion  implies  an  endless  process. 
iJiit  when  I  am  asked  to  form  the  conception  now,  [ 
am  asked  to  think  a  ronlradiction  ;  I  am  asked  to  end 
a  process  of  thought  which  by  hypothesis  is  endless. 

The  same  remark  applies  to  the  infinite  division  of 
space  and  time;  for  like  an  infinite  addition,  an  infinite 
division  is  a  process  which  it  would  be  a  contradiction  to 
speak  of  completing.  On  the  other  hand,  space  and 
time  are,  by  their  very  nature  as  relations,  conceived  to 
be  made  up  of  related  parts.  The  conception,  therefore, 
of  a  space  or  time  absplurely  indivisible  would  involve  ati 
inherent  contradiction. 


If 

il 
1? 


§  5. — Cause, 


After  the  preceding  analyses,  especially  that  of  last 
section,  little  remains  to  be  said  on  ihe  special  problem 
which  the  notion  of  cause  presents.     There  is  evidently 
a  close  '  frinity  between  the  notion  of  cause  and  that  of 
substance:    in    some    metaphysical    analyses    substance 
and  cause  are  regarded  as  ultimately  identical.     As  far 
as    they    form    distinct    notions,    the    one  refers    to   a 
necessary  or  objective  connection  of  co-existing  pheno- 
mena, the  other  to  a  similar  connection  of  phenomena 
that  are   consecutive,    in    the    world  of  which    we   are 
conscious.      Accordingly,    as    empiricism    derives   the 
notion   of  substance   frora    the    uniform   association    ot 
co-existing  sensations,  so  it  analyses  the  notion  of  cause 


310 


Psychology, 


ri 


i 


li'^t 


into  an  uniform   association  of  sensations  that  form  a 
sequence. 

This  analysis  is  obviously  chargeable  with  the  general 
vice  of  all  empiricism  :   it   gives  us  a  world   merely  of 
associated  sensations,  not  of  connected   objects.     A  for- 
tuitous  association    of    sensations,    however   frequently 
repeated,  is  not  a  necessary  connection  of  objects;   a 
temporal  association  in  our  consciousness  is  not  an  ob- 
jective connection  between  the  things  of  which  we  are 
conscious.     There  need  be  no  relu(  tance  to  admit,  to 
the  fullest  extent,  the   marvellous  effects  of  association, 
especially  when   uniform   and  frequent.     We  have  seen 
that  the  two  factors  of  an  uniform  sequence  may,  after  a 
while,  be  able   to  suggest  one  another   irresistibly  and 
instantaneously.     Still  this  implies  merely  that  f^rst  the 
one  appears  in  consciousness,  and  then  the  other  im- 
mediately and   inevitably  arises.     But  the  thought   that 
the  two  are  essentially  connected,  so  that  the  one  cannot 
appear  without  the  other-this  is  a  new  thought,  wholly 
different  from  either  or  both  of  the  terms  in  the  sequence 
This  thought,  a-ain,   is  ^he  thought  of  a  relation  or 
connection,  and  cannot  therefore  be  identified  wuh  sen- 
sation.    It  implies  a  consciousness  which  goes  beyond 
transient  sensdiions.  and  connects  them  with  each  other 
by  a  comparing  act.     This  act  is  rendered  possible  by 
the  presence  in  consciousness  of  a  permanent  factor  that 
is  not  itself  merely  one  of  the  phenomena  which  flow  in 
unceasing  vari^aon.     It  is  this  factor  by  which,  as  we 
have  seen,  a  plurality  of   co-existent  qualities  are  con- 
nected into  the  unity  of  a  substance.     The  same  factor 
connects  the  successive  movements  in  the  world  that  rolls 
before  consciousness.     The   changing   modifications   of 
substances,    which  constitute  this   succession,  are  thus 
thought  as   intrinsically    connected  in   their   t^^.mporal 


General  Nature  of  KnowUdgi,  3 , , 


Ill 


312 


Psychologf, 


PART  II. 


FEELINGS. 


Introduction. 


r 


IN  the  remarks  at  the  beginning  of  this  Book  it  was 
explained  that  the  various  functions  of  mental 
life  are  evolved  from  the  raw  materials  of  sensation  by 
the  twofold  process  of  association  and  comparison  ;  and 
the  student  may  with  advantage  here  refer  to  the 
explanatory  remarks  on  this  subject.  The  development 
of  the  first  function, — that  of  cognition, — has  been 
illustrated  at  length  i.i  Part  I.  It  is  the  development  of 
the  second  function,  that  we  have  now  to  trace.  This 
function  is  variously  termed  feelings  emotion,  sentiment. 
The  term  affection^  as  we  shall  afterwards  find,  has  been 
commonly  restricted  to  a  single  class  of  feelings,  while 
passion  is,  in  ordinary  usage,  applied  to  any  feeling  of 
unusual  intensity.  Of  the  three  terms  properly  descrip- 
tive of  these  phenomena,  emotion  has  the  advantage  of 
possessing  the  cognate  adjectival  form  emotional:  the 
adjective  sentimental  is  not  available  for  the  same 
purpose,  as  it  implies,  in  popular  use,  a  preponderance 
of  the  emotional  over  the  intellectual  factor  in  our 
mental  constitution. 
The  various  forms  of  feeling  have  their  origin  in  the 


Tlie  Nature  of  Pleasure  and  Pain.        3,3 

fact,  that  sensations  are  sources,  not  only  of  knowledge 
but  also  of  pleasure  and  pain.  I„  the  analysis,  upfn 
then  r  '"  '"'"'"^'  '■'  *'"  ^PP-^  """  ^he  capaci  v" 

thTI  !  '^".'^57^'''P'"8  cognition,  is  to  be  measured  by 
the,r  assocabihty  and  comparability.    The  most  complex 

stht      Th  "T  '"'^"^«"''"  senses  of  hearing  and 

described  a?:r  "  ".'  '"°"°"^  "'^'^'^  ^^  --«-es 
described  as  the  most  refmed,  inasmuch  as  in  them  the 

consciousness  is  freed  from  the  don.inion  of  mere  sense 
and  exalted  into  a  state  in  which  purely  menta  lacti  ty 
becomes  predominant  over  bodily  sensation.  ^ 

He  have  seen  that  the  aspect  of  sensations,  in  which 
they  form  the  source  of  our  emotional  life,    s  tha    in 
wh,ch  they  are  regarded  as  giving  pleasur     and    U 
Consequently,    this   aspect   of  sensation   demands   ou; 
attention  at  the  outset     Further,  it  may  be  observed 
that,  though  emotions  are  not  connected  with   bodHv 
organs  m  the  same  manner  as  sensations,  yet  there  is    „ 
■mportant  connection,  on  the  ground  o    which  ce   an 
states  or  movements  of  bodily  organs  have  come  to  be 
accepted  as  expressions  of  emotion.    It  win  be  advisable 
therefore  before  entering  on  the  detailed  analyses  of  t    s 
Part,  to  discuss  the  two  general  subjects  thus  indicated 
namely,  the  nature  of  pleasure  and  pain,  and  the  expr^s 
sion  of  the  emotions.  r      ,  c  expres- 


:.» 


'ur 


S  I — The  Nature  of  Pleasure  and  Pain. 

In  this  inquiry  it  need  scarcely  be  said  that  the 
question  does  not  concern  the  intrinsic  nature  of 
'""'    '       "■■"  i-"""'  "^  '"^ts  or  consciousness.    To  be 


314 


Psycho!o(^y, 


1^ 


i 


pa 


known  they  must  be  felt ;  and   you  can  explain  what 
they  are  in  themselves  only  in  the  way  in  which  any 
simple  sensation— a  taste,  a  colour,  or  a  sound— may  he 
explained,   by    referring   to  the    fact  in    consciousness. 
'Iho  inquiry,  therefore,  is  of  the  same  nature  with  other 
inquiries  whicli  have  been  already  instituted  with  regnrd 
to  our   sensations ;    it  concerns    the   conditions    under 
which  pleasure  and  pain  arise  in  consciousness.       Here, 
hi)wever,  we  are  at  once  struck  by  a  ditTerence  between 
our  present  incjuiry  and  those  which  have  been  already 
carried  out  in  reference  to  sensations.    It  was  found  that 
th(>  (piality,  and  even  the   intensity,  of  sensations  are 
directly  referable  to  conditions  in  their  objective  causes. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  p'-asantness  or  painfulncss  of  a 
sensation  is  not  in  general  obviously  connected  with  a 
specific  condition  in  the  object,  on  which  it  depends. 
Accordingly,  the  conditions,  which  determine  the  plea- 
surable or  painful  character  of  any  conscious  state,  are 
to  be  sought,  not  in  the  object  with  which  it  is  associated, 
but  rather  in  the  subject  itself.     On  this  fact  is  founded 
the  ethical  doctrine,  i)reached  by  Epicurean  and  Stoic 
alike,  regarding  the  indilTerence  of  externals  to  the  real 
happiness  of  human  life.     This  fact  is  also  expressed  in 
the  psychological  doctrine,  which  describes  feelings  of 
pleasure   and   pain  as   purely   subjective   states.       For 
while  in  knowledge  and  volition  there  is  necessarily  a 
reference   to  an   object    known  or  willed,  in  the  mere 
feeling  of  being  pleased  or  pained,  the  subject  is  occupied 
solely  with  his  own  conscious  condition. 

What,  then,  is  it  that  makes  one  state  of  consciousness 
pleasant,  and  another  painful  ?  This  question  seems  to 
have  attracted  scientific  attention  for  the  first  time  under 
the  great  imjuilse,  given  by  Socrates  and  by  his  contem- 
porary adherents  and  op^wnents,  to  speculation  on  the 


The  Nature  of  Pleasun  and  Pain.       3 , 5 

chief  good  of  human  life.      r„,|,,,,,,  .^e  e„riies.  theory 
on   the  subject   was  that  ^^{  fho   c\         ■  ^"^"ry 

v.uio,„  school,  i,„o  wh    h    I      „.  '       r''  ?'  "'  ""= 
nfSf,,--,,  ""wnici,  (|„  many-coloured  fol'owers 

of  Socrn>c.  separale.l  nnmedia.ely  after  hi,,  death      T  ^ 

^>'.ister,  for  it  npparcntly  received  the  smrfirm  r.(  i 
a  theory,  taking  a  flir  artrer  trrasn  nf  tl.«  ,.u 

LThaT::  rr'i  ^^-^-^ -'--"=::: 

Ik  r         »"l«equent  speculation  on  the  suhi  ct 

p"      Zi,.    I    f "'    ""=    "'•^"    ""^    ""•"    B'itish 
ps)  cliologist  to  draw  attention  to  the  sv.hiect   and  hi, 

own  theory  professes  .0  be  h.tle  more  than  a  ;ep^d 
lion  of  the  Aristoteh'm     n,,.  .1  reprouuc- 

on    the   suhie       .  '  "'""  ■■"""'  discussions 

on    the   subject,   even    among   the    expositors  of    the 

ychology  of  evoh„i„nism,  fol„w  the  essential  I  ne"' 
tl  e  ame  theory,  happily  enriching  i,  «;„,  a  new  we'lth 
of  .1, titration  from  the  vast  range  of  modern  ^2^ 

■"  which  ,t  has  sometimes  l,cen  unnecessarily  dressed, 


•  'I 


st'l.ject  the  last  six  of  hi     /    ,  "•'■ni'Iton  devotes  to  the 

>»-.n,y.W,h)  of  „„„i,e  cri„Vis.„  on  .l,f  .he    ;;„,';' ■^'  ^"= 
•y<'.'af«  Chapters  1013)  willl,ef,„„„l  .„  '"/"""»    /ir  Cj, 

«i(h  chn„„i„B  original  ,y  of    ll„  "'',"""°"  "'  "'=  "'""^ 

Pi..n,hi„   of    H»n,mo„;,     "1      .:••;■'',''  ^^  -''"-  ^h- 
<lisc...-a„s  by  cvolu.ioni.'  I  c  «"  „  ,      ^""'l^  ,"""" 

c™r,,e.  Spencer',  />-,„„>/„  „, vtl:!^    .;',""-"""  i»:  "•' 
-h  „„.h    co„,,a,e  h.   Z...   ./  ^v;.;    U Li  er^rfuri: 


3i<3 


Psychology. 


the  theory  may  be  summarised  in  the  following  brlel 
statement : — 

All  our  conscious  states — our  activities  and  passivities 
equally — are  capablo  of  various  di'grccs  both  of  intensity 
and  of  duration.     Still  they  are  limited  and  that  in  two 
ways.     There  is  firstly,  an  absohiie  or  ultimate  limit  to 
the  intensity  and  duration  of  any  state, — a  limit  which 
cannot    by   any   exertion    be    overstepped.      There    is, 
besides,  a  natural  or  ordinary  limit,   that    is,    a   limit 
which  the  menial  state  tends  spontaneously  to  reach, 
but  which  may  be  exceeded  by  an  extraordinary  exertion. 
'I'his  limit  may  be  defined  in  various  ways.      It  is  here 
spoken  of  as  natural,  because  it  is  the  limit  to  which  a 
mental  state  tends  by  its  very  nature.      As  alTording  a 
norm  or  rule  for  moderating  the  ordinary  stimulation  of 
a  mental  state,  it  may  be  called  the  normal  limit.     It  is 
also  the  limit  of  health  :  if  it  is  not  usually  reached,  the 
organ  or  power  called  into  play  becomes  atrophied  ;  if  it 
is    usually    transgressed,    hypertrophy   and    destructive 
waste  ensue.      Pleasure,  then,   may    be  defined  as  the 
consciousness  arising  from  the  stimidation  of  a  mental 
state  to  its  normal  limit,  and  no  further ;  pain,  as  the 
consciousness  arising  irom  a  mental  state  being  strained 
beyond,  or  restrained  within,  that  limit. 

According  to  this  law,  therefore,  those  actions  give 
pleasure  which  fulfil  the  conditions  of  healthy  life,  those, 
on  the  contrary,  give  pain,  in  which  these  conditions  are 
violated.  Accordingly,  it  has  been  pointed  out  by 
recent   evolutionists    that    this   is   precisely    the   course 


prominent  place  wiist  be  accorded  to  Mr.  Grant  Allen's  Physio- 
li\qical  Aistlieti:s,  especially  Chapter  ii.  A  history  of  theories  ig 
given  by  Ilnniilton,  and  also  by  Wundt  [Pitysioh^iscfu  Psychologies 
Vol.  i.,  pp.  494-9)- 


The  Nature  of  Pleasure  and  Pain.       317 

which  the  development  of  life  would  take  through  a 
struggle  for  existence  in  which  the  fitlt^t  survive  as  it 
has  been  hcid  from  of  old  that  the  arrangement  is 
a  bcnelicent  provision  which  the  wise  Author  of  Nature 
has  made  for  the  preservation  of  the  individual  and  the 
continuance  of  the  species.* 

Hut  the  abstract  statement  of  this  theory  of  pleasure 
and  pam  calls  for  some  explanatory  retiiarks  in  order  to 
understand  its  interpretation  of  our  emotional  life.     It 
may,   therefore,   be  considered   proper  at  tl.e  outset  to 
notice  an  objection  which  appears  in  Mr.  Mill's  criticism 
ot  the  theory.     'l"he  objection  is  urged  in  an  observation 
made  by  Sir  W.  llaiivilton  himself.      "When,"  he  .sa)s 
"it  is  required  of  us  to  explain  particularly  and  in  detail,' 
why  the  rose,  for  example,  produces  this  sen.sation  ot 
smell,  assafoetida  that  other,  and  so  forth,  and  in  what 
peculiar  action  docs  the  perfect  or  pleasurable,  and  the 
imperfect  or  painful,   activity  of  an   organ  consist,  we 
must  at  once  profess  our  ignorance."      Mr.   Mill  cites 
this  confession  as  implying  that  Hamilton  was  himself 
"more  than  half  aware  "  of  his  theory  being  unable  to 
fit   all   the    facts.      But,    in    spite   of    Mill's   demand, 
Hamilton's   assertion    holds   good    with    regard   to    all 
theories,  that  "in  general  we  may  account  for  much;  in 
detail  we  can  rarely  account  for  anything."     There  is  not 
an  animal  or  plant,  not  a  star  in  space  or  a  pebble  on 
the  seashore,  whose  position  and  shape  and  properties 
we  are  able  to  explain  in  complete  detail.      The  utmost 
we  can  do  is  tc  show  ho\'-,  if  we  were  acquainted  with 


*It  may  be  interesting  to  compare   with   Spencer's  Data  of 
Etktcs    Ferguson's    Principies    of  Moral  and   I'olitical  Science 
Partii.,  Chapter  i.,  8  6.  ' 


■i 


3«8 


Psychology, 


. 


the   history  of  each   individual    object,  every  dcfnil   in 
reference  lo  it  might  ndniil  of  being  explained  ;  but  to 
show  how  each  detail  has  actually  been  brought  about, 
is   beyond   the  power  of  the  most  industrious  intellect. 
'I'his  inability,  however,  docs  not  militate  against  our  ex- 
lending  to  unknown  facts  a  theory  which  furnishes  a 
simple  explanation  of  all  the  known  (ads  of  the  same 
class.        K'a;-.v3    »he    accidental    limitations    of    luunan 
knowledge,     /  •   may  be  unable  to  explain  how  certain 
fads  have  been,  in  all  their  minutest  details,  the  result  of 
a  t  ertain  law  :    our  ignorance  does  not  imply  that  we 
know  the  facts  to  be  incompatible  with  the  law.     Now, 
it  is  true  that,  in  many  cases,  we  cannot  tell  how  the 
pleasantness  or  unpleasantness   of  a  particular  mental 
state  has  actually  been  produced.      It  is  sutVicient  to  be 
able  to  sh(nv  how,  if  we   were  fully  actpiainted  with  the 
process  at  work  in  such  mental  states,  their  pleasant  or 
painful  nature  would  be  seen  to  tlow  from  the  general 
law  of  pleasure  and  pain. 

But    this   is    precisely    what    we    are   able    to    do   in 
reference  even  to  our  simjile  sensations.     Take,  by  way 
of  example,  an  unpleasantly  sour  taste.      We  know  the 
destructive  action  of  powerful  acids  on  all  animal  tissues 
even  of  the  toughest  sort.     Is  it  an  illegitimate  supposi- 
tion that  milder  acids,  like  those  of  unripe  fruit,  which 
do    not    actually  disintegrate  the  gustative    organs,  but 
merely   i)roduce  an   unpleasant  taste,  set  up  a   violent 
activity  in  these  organs,  and  that  this  excessive  .strain  is 
the  cause  of  the  painful  sensation  ?      For  we  know  that 
an  activity  of  the  same   kind,   but   more   moderate  in 
degree,  such  as  is  excited  by  the  delicate  acids  of  many 
common  fruits,  when  vipe,  is  cajxible  of  afTording  one  of 
the  most  pleasant  tastes.     On  the  other  hand,  it  is  worth 
observing  that,  if  an  acid  of  this  sort  is  extremely  diluled, 


The  Nature  of  I'leasure  and  Pain.       319 

t.-.n.c^  ,|,c   s„|,„l    l„„|y  „  „|,,,r„„rin,..,y  ,,,„k,„   „f  „, 
■ns.,.,,1   ,,r   .ns.elcss.     |„„    i,    „   „„,,,„^    f,,^^         '  J 

t/cs,   „f  ,,hys,„I„py   ,„    ,|,s,.|„.sinK   ll.c   nature   of   ,I,e 

n,r  1"  ;'"'"•  '■','"''■'"'*'  '"  ""^  ^"""'"  "^'^'--'i'""'- 

r,i  ir is,"  M     ■'■'  ^'    '"";'"  "'"^  ''"  '"^^"'  ""  M^-  Mill'.. 
"  Mr,s,n,  there  ore  cv„l..„tly  n„t  .-,  fcw  ft,t,  ,„nnectcd 

"terprc.,.,t,.,n  ,n  ,„e  light  „f  ,|,is  thc.ry.     Atnon/thc  ' 
prnn,„K™.c  n,..y  he  ,iven  ,0  a  f„,,  whi.l,  h.,  often  \Z 
-Kc  .  0.,,,  on   ,he  one  h.nn.l,   fechnR,  whieh   ,c"n" 
.n.nns,.:n  y  p.inf,,,  so„,etin„..s  ,ive  pleatttre.  .  i,e     . 
l.e  o  her  hnn.l,  feeh„,s  wh,.  h  seem  in,ri„M„,  y  p|e  's.. 
on--'""-  K.ye  ,...,*„.      T„  explain,  ,t  „,ay  ,,e'„  ,.,er 
that  .s,„,,e  feehngs  appc.r  t,.  .lepen.l  f„r  their  pleasur,,!  ,  ' 
orpn,„fuleha,,,eter„n,he,rn.,rinsi,:,,„„|i„e.     -ph 
tl'e  case,  a,   W„„,l.  points  „nt,.  especially  «i,h  ,1,  ,se 
-nsa.tons,  ,n  « h„  h,  as  in  tastes,  o.lo.'rs,  and  the  e    i  t 

o..rgan,c   l„e,  the  consciousness  is  n,ai„ly  taken   1 
»'..h  the  pleasure   or   pain   rereivecl.      Thus  in  dist  n 
«".sung  tastes  of  a  sweet  quality  f,om  Ihoseofa  1    ter 
'1|...  .|y,  we  eotnntonly  attach  an  .ntrinsic  agreeal.l 

.lie  fornter,  an  tntrinsic  disagreeaWenes.,  .„  ,he 
Loiter.  So,  as  already  observed,  sntells  are  in  general 
d,st,ng,„shed  only  l.y  their  ag,eeal„e  and  disagfee^  j 
■uahttes.    In  like  manner,  certain  emotions,  such'as  W 

o'er,    LT'   '",':   '""'"^''-^""^   "^■''«^'^"'.   •^'■■'^ 
others,    hke    f- .,    and  hate,  seem  intrinsically  painful 

Now,  ,f  ,t  were  really  .he  natural  quality  of  a  feelin. 


Mr, 


•  PJni,int. 


■h'   r>, 


sycnowi^ie,  Vui.  i„  pp.  470-1  (2nd  ed.>. 


320 


Psychology, 


which  yielded  its  pleasure  or  its  pain,  it  would  involve 
an  irreconcilable  contradiction  to  speak  of  a  painful 
feehng  giving  pleasure,  or  a  pleasant  feeling  givin-  pain 
But  the  truth  is  indicated  by  our  theory :  it  is  not  the 
essential  quality  of  any  conscious  state  that  makes  it 
agreeable  or  disagreeable,  but  its  accordance  or  dis- 
cordance with  the  limit  of  healthy  exercise.  This  will 
appear  from  both  sides  of  the  fact  under  consideration. 

I.    I  he  transition  of  generally  painful  feelings  into  an 
agreeable  state  is  experienced  where  it  might  be  least 
expected  -in  sensation,    where  it  might   be  supposed 
Imt,  as  there  is  a  physical  basis  for  the  pain,  there  must 
be  a  physical  barrier  against  its  yielding  to  an  opposite 
feeling.      Yet    we    know    that   beverages   and   viands, 
disagreeable  at  first,  come  to  be  indulged  in  with  even  a 
greedy  relish.     Habits,  like  smoking,  snuffing,  chewing 
tobacco,  are  sometimes  practised  by  the  beginner  with 
positive  disgust,  but  become  after  a  while  the  sources  of 
a   fascinating   pleasure.     It   seems   as   if  in  these  and 
kindred  sensations  the  limit  of  healthy,  and  therefore  of 
agreeable,   stmiulation  were  very  near  the  limit  where 
consciousness  begins;  and,  consequently,  even  a  faint 
stnnulation  is  apt  to  overstep  the  limit  of  pleasure.     But 
a  persistent  exercise  of  the  organ,  on  which  the  stimulant 
acts,  seems  to  produce  such  a  modification  of  its  struc- 
ture,   to   impart   such   a   strength   or  toughness  to  its 
tissues,  as  enables  it  to  stand  a  degree  of  excitement 
which  would  previously  have  been  unendurable      'I'his 
is  confirmed  by  the  familiar  fact,  that  the  longer  such  a 
habit  IS  indulged,  and  the  more  excessive  the  indulgence, 
the  greater  is  the  quantity  of  stimulus  required  to  yield 
the  gratification  craved,— 

••As  if  increase  of  nppetite  had  grown 
By  what  it  fed  on." 


The  Nature  of  Pleasure  and  Pain.        321 

It  is  but  an  extension  of  this  explanation  to  suppose, 
that  emotions,  hice  grief  and  fear,  which  are  appnrenti; 
painful  m  their  very  nature,  are  so  in  reality  only  because 
they  scarcely  admit  of  any  indulgence  without  transgres- 
smg   the   limits   of  healthy   action.      Feelings    of   the 
irascible  type,   for  example,   in  all   their  ordinary  out- 
bursts, imply  too  violent  a  disturbance  of  our  sensitive 
nature  to  be  capable  of  yielding  any  pure  enjoyment: 
and  yet  the  proverbial  sweetness  of  revenge  is  a  proof 
that   these   passions   do   form   the   source  of  a  strong 
gratification.     Moreover,  prolonged  or  excessive  indul 
gence  produces  here  the  same  effect  as  in  the  case  of  the 
unpleasant  ::ensations  which  are  converted  into  pleasure- 
the  man,  who  continues  to  find  delight  in  the  indulgence 
of  malicious  feelings,  may  be  hardened  into  a  coarse 
insensibility  to  human  sympathies,  that  will  lead  him  to 
seek   his   hideous  gratification  in  strong  stimulants  of 
envy  and  spite  and  cruel  revenge,  from  which  ordinary 
minds  shrink  with  horror. 

But  we  need  not  dwell  further  on  the  malevolent  side 
of  human  nature,  as  it  will  require  to  be  considered 
fully  in  the  sequel,  when  the  source  of  its  gratificc^  ons 
may  be  more  appropriately  examined.     In  the  instances 
which  have  just  been  described,  feelings  that  are  usually 
painful  are  made  to  give  pleasure  by  raising  the  normal 
limit  of  healthy  excitement,  and  thus  enabling  the  mind 
to   bear   a   more   powerful   stimulant.      But   there   are 
instances  in  which  the  same  result  is  reached  in  another 
way,-by  lowering  the  intensity^  of  the  stimulation.     An 
example   of  these   is    furnished    by   one   of  the   main 
branches  of  literature.      Tragedy  plays  upon  the  pain- 
ful   emotions   of  the    human    soul.      These   emotions 
when  aroused  by  causes  in  the  world  of  reality,  com- 
monly implv   an    exrirempnf    tor,    cp,-;.x,,„    r„-    -,' 

-  '  -'^-^   sciiwUa    i(ji    any   sort 

w 


f 


322 


Psycholofj^ 


of  plcsure.  They  may.  i.ul.cl.  ns  we  have  ,ecn.  nfTord 
a  Krai.l.cat.on  to  coarse  natures  that  .rave  sln,n« 
e.noiuMul  .stunul.MUH,  or  to  morl,icl  .scns.hiliiio.  that  feed 
on  exntomtnt.  lint  to  .nost  ,n,n<is  that  seek  recreation 
«"  I'jera.ure  ,he  tn.gedy  of  real  hfe  is  t.»o  shockinu.  An 
uhil  representation  of  hfe's  tragedies,  however,  ex<ite» 
the  appropriate  senti.nent..  in  .s.u  h  a  moderate  de.ree 
as  .nvo  ves  no  nnwhole.so.ne  .strain  npon  our  sensihihly. 

and  tulhls  thereby  the  condition  of  pleasurable  in,iul,ence 
Ihese    ren,arks    are    not,    o(   course,    intended    to    be 
undersiood  as  disrcvenno  the  source  of  all  the  enoynient 
that  IS  dc-nved  fron,  tra.,ic  literature.      It  is  obvious,  for 
example,  that  part  of  this  enjoy.nent  must  be  <h^^  to  the 
KMhettc    gratiluation    allbrded    by    literary    art.        Hut 
greater  than  all  the  tnere  deliolu  in  artistic  workmanship 
IS    the    pleasurable     exciteu.ent     which    is    felt    in    the 
emotions     themselves    that    are   aroused    by    the    ided 
l>-«;ti.res    of  tragedy  ;  and   it   is  a  signihcant   fan    that 
PlHlosop lural  cr.tics.  without  any  design  of  establishin-^ 
a  psycholog.cal  theory,  have  yet  sometimes  analysed  the 
pleasure  felt  in  trage<iy  as  if  they  were  expressly  illust.at- 
.ng  the  theory  of  pleasure  and  jKun,  whic :h  is  now  under 
cons.derat.on.*    A  further  result  of  this  theory  is  the  rule 
of  poet.c  art  which  de.uands  that  a  tragedy  shall  tu.t  be 
excessive,  or  at   least  without   relief;  and  it  becomes  a 
fair  question  of  critic  ism,  whether  some  great   poems 
such  as  even    AV.,  /...and   OMA,  do  not  trans^re': 
the  limits  which  are  required  for  poetic  efTect 

The    emotions,   which,   since   the    time  of  Aristotle 
have  been   regarded  as  pre-eminently  the   materials  oi 


*  See  Hume's  well-known  essay  On  Tragrdy  [Essays,  Part  i.. 
«.).     The  quotauun  from  Fontcndle  is  e«pecmlly  inlerLing. 


The  Naiiire  of  Pleasure  and  Pain.        323 

ira^'cdy,  are  pity  and  tcm.r,  or,  ns  iluy  ,,.1^1.1  pnlnps  |,e 
"XTo  a(.r„ntdy  descriht-d,  s)nipatl,y  will,  kucI  and 
sy'pall.y  will,  fear.*  Yft  ^ricf  and  fear  a,c,  „|  all 
t-Mnoli„i,s,  prcciNcly  those  wl,i<  h  f<,r<e  us,  an-.d  ihc 
realities  of  life,  to  face  snfferinK  without  disguise.  'I'here 
»s  nothing,  however,  hetler  eslahlished  n,  experience 
than  the  lact,  that  these  v_-ry  en,olions  are  capable  of 
heing  iransforined  into  pleasurable  excitements. 

1.    lake,   for  example,   fear.       JOven   when   it  is   not 

without  ground  in  real  danger,  it  is  yet  capable  of  being 

toned   down  so  as  to  yield  a  genuine,   though    strong 

enjoymcr,t,  to  men  at  least  of  robust  nerve.    It  has  often 

been    observed  that  not  a  few  sports  owe  their  joyous 

stimulation  in  no  slight  measure  to  the  ex(  itement  of  the 

genuine    peril   which   they   involve.      The   ascent   in  a 

balloon,  the  shooting  of  a  rapid  in  a  canoe,  the  hunt  of 

the  tiger  and  other  beasts  of  prey,  perhaps  even  the  glory 

of  a  batile-chaige, 

"  And  that  stern  joy  which  warriors  feel 
In  foenien  worthy  0/  their  sled," 

are  instances  in  which  even  a  well-grounded  fear  does 
not  surpass  the  limit  of  pleasure  when  the  sensibility  has 
the  toughness  of  vigorous  health.  But  the  purest 
pleasure  of  this  stimulant  is  felt  when  it  is  drawn  from 
imaginary  sources  ;  and  it  is  not  merely  the  dran,a,  but 
other  forms  of  .iterature  as  well,  that  take  advantage  of 
Its  power.  Here,  therefore,  is  disclosed  the  secret  of  the 
spell  which  poet  or  story-teller  may  weave  from  tales  of 


•  See  some  capital   remarks  on  this  point  in  Dallas'  The  Gar 
Science^  Vol.  ii.,  pp.  53.59.  -^ 


324 


PsychoJof^y, 


horror,  and  from  all  the  weird  iinn^cry  that  clothes  the 
mysterious  ngi-ms  of  an  a!Ui(|iu'  .snpcrsltion. 

a.  A  similar  fart  is  noticoahic  in  the  case  of  the  other 
tragic  emotion.  It  has  often  been  observed  that,  after 
the  first  shock  of  a  bereavement  is  over,  the  heart  seems 
to  become  atcustomed  to  the  natural  feelin"  of  sorrow, 
yearns  even  after  the  indulgence,  ami  finos  a  solace  in 
the  sad  exercise.  Sir  William  Hamilton  has  cited 
numerous  references  to  this  strange  experience  of 
sorrowing  minds  ;*  but  he  has  anparently  overlooked  the 
most  exquisite  expression  that  it  has  ever  found,  when 
Queen  Constance,  justifying  herself  against  Philip's 
complain,  that  she  had  become  "as  fond  of  grief  as  of 
her  child,"  pleads  : — 

•'  Grief  fills  llic  ro(mi  up  of  my  nhspnt  child, 
Lies  in  his  l)ctl,  walUs  up  niul  (li»wn  with  me. 
Puts  on  his  pretty  looks,  rcpc:Us  his  words, 
l\cmeml)ers  me  of  all  his  gracimis  p.irts, 
StuiVs  out  his  vacant  ^jarmentH  with  his  form. 
Then  have  I  reason  to  l)c  fond  of  j^ricf."t 

If,  even  in  the  real  calamities  of  life,  the  heart  may  thus 
find  pleasure  in  dallying  with  its  own  woe,  it  is  not 
surprising  that  literature  should  seize  upon  a  fact  so 
favoijrable  to  its  effects.  Not.  only,  therefore,  does  the 
agreeable  stimulation  of  grief  form  one  of  the  principal 
charms  of  tragic  representation  in  the  drama,  as  well  as 
m  the  narratives  of  history  and  fiction ;  but  in  all  poetry 
siill  the  favourite  theme  is  //  Pciiseroso^ — 

The  sweetest  songs  arc  those  that  tell  of  saddest  thought." 


•  Lectures  on  Metaphysics^  Vol.  ii.,  pp.  482-3. 
t  King  fohn,  Act  iii.,  Scene  4. 


The  Nature  of  Phasure  and  Pain.        325 

It  need  srarr.ely  be  addrd  that,  while  for  convcnicn(  c 
illustrations  have  been  drawn  from  literature,  the  same 
princ  iple  must  exijlain  the  charm  of  pathos  in  all  the 
arts. 

II.  Hut  the  counterpart   of  the  fact   we   have  been 
considering  affords  an  upially  remarkable  illustration  of 
the  law,  on  which  pleasure  and  pain  depend.     Feelings, 
that   seem  in    their  essential  nature  pleasant,   may  be 
rendered  painful  by    ci)ression  or  by  excess.      This,  loo, 
IS  experienced,  f    in  in  the  case  of  sensations,  where  it 
might  be  suppc  .  :  that  there  is  a  physical  necessity  for 
the  pleasure.     '1\  j  experience  is  extremely  familiar  in 
connexion  with  the  manifold  forms  of  physical  enjoy- 
ment, which  the  strong  and  hcalihy  fi.id  in  muscular 
exercise :  the  n)oment  the  limit  of  health  is  jiassed,  the 
nioment   an   injurious   waste   sets   in,    that    moment   a 
warning  is  sounded  in  consciousness  by  the  pleasure  of 
exertion  giving  place  to  the  pain  of  fatigue.     IJut  the 
same  result  is  observed  also  in  the  indulgence  of  the 
passive  sensations.     Every  child  soon  learns,  by  some 
uncomfortable  experience, 

"  To  loathe  the  taste  of  sweetness,  whereof  little 
More  than  a  little  is  by  much  too  much."* 

There  is  a  point,  also,  which  the  most  delicious  fragrance 
may  not  exceed ;  a  slight  increase  in  its  intensity  may 
transform  it  into  a  nuisance.  But  here  it  is  surely 
unnecessary  to  enter  into  details  ;  all  that  has  ever  been 
written  on  the  disagreeableness  of  surfeits  might  be  cited 
in  illustration  oi"  the  sime  truth. 

In    sensations,   like    those    mentioned,    which   seem 


II 


*  Shakesnparp'R  k'ii 


Henry  '/V,,  Part  i.,  Act  iii.,  Scene 


326 


Psychology. 


: 


intrinsically  pleascint,  it  must  be  supposed  that  the  limit 
of  healthy  activity  for  the  sentient  organ  is  considerably 
above  the  verge  of  consciousness,  and  that  therefore  the 
sensation  in  all  ordinary  degrees  is  a  source  of  pleasure. 
But  it  is  evident  that  the  pleasure  arises  from  no  inherent 
quality  of  the  sensation :  it  arises  from  the  healthy 
moderation  of  the  exercise  which  it  involves,  and  is 
therefore  neutralised  by  excess. 

Familiar  facts  oblige  us  to  extend  the  same  law  to  our 
emotions.     The  experience  of  men  under  all  conditions 
has  been,  that  no  cup  of  joy  can  ever  be  safely  drained 
to  the  very  dregs.     Every  attempt  to  charge  our  pleasures 
with  an  undue  intensity,  or  to  prolong  them  for  an  undue 
length  of  time,  is  inevitably  frustrated  by  the  irreversible 
laws  of  our  nature.     And,  therefore,  even  when  life  thrills 
with  a  moment  of  ecstatic  joy,  there  often  shoots  through 
consciousness  a  i)ang  from  feeling  that  the  intensity  of 
bliss  cannot  be  sustain'-d,  that  we  are  trembling  on  the 
verge,  where  a  breat     may  decide  whether  pleasure  or 
pain  is  to  prevail.     This  fact  has,  indeed,  opened  an  in- 
exhaustible theme  for  the  moralist  in  all  ages,  founding, 
as  it  does,  on  an   unassailable   basis  the  injunction  to 
moderation  in  all  our  enjoyments.     In  an  often-quoted 
passage  from    Romeo  and  Juliet  this  moral  precept  is 
actually  based  on  the   psychological  law  with  which  it  is 
hero  coMnc«:tc:d;    and   the    law   is    itself  illustrated   by 
reference    to    the    very    phenomena   already    noticed  of 
pleasant  sensations  becoming  in  excess  disagreeable. 


**  These  violent  delights  have  violent  ends, 
And  in  their  triumph  die,  like  fire  and  powder. 
Which  as  they  kiss,  consume.     The  sweetest  honey 
Is  loathesome  in  its  own  deliciousness, 
And  in  the  taste  confounds  the  appetite 


327 


The  Nature  of  Pleasure  and  Pain. 

Therefore  lo^;e  moderately  ;  long  love  doth  so  : 
Too  swift  arrives  as  tardy  as  to  slow. "  • 

real     d    ^,'"^,f  »^«^"°"  ^eems  in  „,any  cases  to  be 

u     qu.,,';  ;T"."«."'^  ^'--»'  *at  a  taste  o 
quality    is    not    ir-rinsica  ly    disagreeihlp     \, 
pomted  out  that,  when  of  n,odeLe  s  fe  J  1 '  „  T 

and    hat  it  becomes  disagreeable  either  by  excess   TZ 

the  strong  adds  of  unripe  fruits,  or  by  deflctTs'  in  an 

.ns,p,d  dilution.     The  same  observatL  tay  be  Lad" 

n  reference  to  sweet  tastes,  only  that  tne  limft  of  a^ee 

contrast  between  pams  of  excess  and  those  ofdefec    i! 

. ::; :  rid '"  r  -  ^^"^^"^^  ^  >- "-  -^"e;: 

may  De  traced.  Thus,  an  aromatic  substance  like  the 
odoriferous  fruits,  may,  in  course  of  putrefaction  htn 
so  strongly  scented  >,«  ,^  K»  «-  ■  '^"'"^'^'^'="°".  become 
„,:u  J  'scented  as  to  be  offensive,  while  it  excites  a 
mlder  dissatisfaction  also  when  its  aroma  is  gone  I„ 
colour-decorations  an  excessive  display  of  the  nowlrfuil! 
simulating  tints  at  the  red  end  o'f  t'he  sJecTm  may' 


*•  In  these,  ere  triflevs  half  their  wish  obtain. 
The  toihrg  pleasure  sickens  into  pain  • 
And    e'e-.  when  fashion's  brightest  arts  decov, 
The  heart  dislrustinn;  asks,  if  this  be  joy  ?  » 


li   '' 


PsycJiology» 


ft;* 


derive  Its  dlsagrccahlcncss,  partly  if  not  wholly,  from  the 
surfeit  of  the  eye,  while  a  superabundance  of  the  milder 
gKous  and  hhics,  and,  still  more,  of  neutral  lints,  may 
owe  its  uni>leasant  effect  to  the  disappointment  arising 
from  imperfect  stimulation.  Most  of  these  forms  of 
unsatisfying  sensations  are  without  names,  probably  from 
the  fact  that  they  are  not  sufliciently  obtrusive  in  human 
life  to  require  specific  mention  often;  but  it  is  one  of  the 
earliest  lessons  of  all  science  to  learn  that  the  variety  of 
nature  is  not  to  be  restricted  by  the  imperfections  of 
human  language.  TIere,  fortunately,  the  want  of  specific 
names  is  compensated  by  a  common  artifice  of  language. 
The  most  familiar  instance  of  unpleasantness  arising  from 
defective  sensation  is  met  with  among  our  tastes  ;  and, 
as  in  numberless  other  cases,  the  typical  re[)resentative 
of  a  class  is  used  to  [)rovide  a  name  for  all  the  rest.  Salt 
that  has  lost  its  savour,  viands  in  which  the  customary 
seasoning  is  missed,  the  extreme  dilution  of  any  fiavour,— - 
these  have  long  been  taken  as  types  of  everything  that 
fails  to  impart  an  ailecjuate  ..est  to  our  enjoyments.  In- 
sipidity has,  therefore,  become  a  term  of  extensive 
application  to  feelings  of  an  unsatisfying  nature.* 

These  feelings  are  met  with  throughout  the  entire 
range  of  our  emotional  life;  but  probably  they  are  to  be 
found  in  their  most  striking  form  in  connection  with  the 
general  exercise  of  our  powers.  The  happiness  of  life  as 
a  whole  must  depend  on  our  having  suflicient  occupation 
to  afford  an  agreeable  stimulation  of  feeling.     It  is  true 


*  Various  other  terms,  though  not  more  specific  than  insipid^  tire 
also  employed  lo  denote  the  same  idea  of  the  unsatisfactoriness  of 
deficient  stimulation  of  the  feelings,  such  as,  dull,  slow^  flat,  stale^ 
vapid,  spiritlcis,  liftlcsSy  dead,  dead-alive.  The  emotional  slate 
luubt  ihcicioic  be  familiar  enough  in  ordinary  life. 


The  Nature  of  Pleasure  and  Pain.        j^g 

"ne  power  or  one  fee  ,  f  ^         '  ""  '^^"'^  ^""""^  "' 
1    ntr  or  one  set  of  powers  to  excess       It  i=  fi, 

S>ill,   the  irksomeness    arisfn,"T  °™  "''''^''^*- 

-ount  oUctivit,,  is^t";r:"tss X!"   """'''"'"' 

••  Absence  ofoccupation  is  not  rest. 
A  m.nd  quite  vacant  is  a  mind  distressed.'- 

be  ent  rlrl  r.f   «,^  '  **I'l^^^*s  like  a  foe  to 

oe  got  rid  of,  men  are  not  unwilling  to  "  kill  time  »  h. 

Perhaps  in  the  light  of  these  facts  we  mav  find  ,„  „ 
'lanation  of  the  sad  phenomena  of  satiety      Varil         ) 
s."n„lus  is  essential  to  consciousness   bu"' even  °' 

Perpetually  rung  on  the  old  set  of  .    .  '''"'S' 

while  to  be  fo"owed  hi  „       !         .^™"  ^'>^'"'  ">""  •-» 

h  ,1,      r  ^  ""'^  '""euid  feelings.     Novelty 

^  therefore,  essential  to  enjoyment,  as  well  as  var     1"^ 

both  be,ng  necessary  to  stimulate  teeling  to  the  , owes! 


J) 


^1 


i 


•Cowpei's  Reiiiaiitnt, 


III!'  I 


iT 


330 


Psychology. 


limit  of  pleasure.  But  most  lives  me  restricted  within  a 
comparatively  narrow  sphere  ;  and,  whatever  variety  they 
may  enjoy,  cannot  long  continue  to  find  scope  for 
novelty  of  impression.  Accordingly,  if  the  mind  has  oppor- 
tunities of  reflection,  there  is  apt  to  arise,  in  varying  de- 
grees of  intensity,  a  feeling  of  dissatisfaction  with  circum- 
stances as  unable  to  afTord  adequate  stimulation  in  con- 
sequence of  having  lost  their  freshness.  This  feeling  may 
attach  itself  merely  to  single  objects  which,  from  long  fa- 
miliarity, have  lost  their  power  to  please.  But  it  may 
also  extend  to  the  whole  surroundings ;  and  if  no  bene- 
ficent necessity  prevents  the  sensibility  from  morbidly 
preying  on  itself,  the  result  may  be  a  state  of  intolerable 
discontent  with  the  general  insipidity  of  life. 

"How  weary,  stale,  flat,  aii.l  unprofitable 
Seem  to  me  all  the  uses  of  this  world  1 "  • 

In  this  state  of  feeling  may  we  not  see  the  source  of 
those  pessimistic  systems  of  thought,  which  find  in  hu- 
man life  nothing  worth  living  for  ?     This  incapability  of 


*  Hamlet,  Act  I,  Sc.  2.  The  citation  of  Hamlet  suji^c^csts  that 
the  student  will  find  an  invaluable  subject  of  psychological  specula- 
tion in  the  mood  of  mind  which  has  been  immortalised  in  this  drama. 
The  same  life  weariness,  with  its  developments  in  human  character, 
has  formed  a  favourite  theme  with  the  poets  of  the  modern  world  ; 
and  the  student  may  derive  an  interest  from  comparing  in  this  con- 
nection other  celebrated  treatments  of  the  same  theme,  such  as 
Byron's  Ma; j red  and  Tennyson's  Mauii,  but  especially  GcKlhes 
Faust,  and  perhaps  also  the  less  successful  reproductions  of  the 
Faust-legend  by  Marlowe,  Miiller,  Lenau,  and  Bailey.  There  are 
some  admirable  remarks  on  this  mood  of  the  soul,  with  a  general 
reference  to  its  manifestations  in  life  and  literature,  but  with  special 
reference  to  his  Sorrows  of  Werther^  in  Goethe's  Wahrheit  und 
Dichtung,  Book  xiii. 


The  Nature  of  Pleasure  and  Pain.        331 

receiving  pleasure  from  the  feeble  excitement  of  objects 
hat  are  no  longer  new  may  explain  also  the  fact,  often 
referred  to  by  the  poets,  that  to  young  eyes  there  is 
thrown  over  nature  a  glamour  which  vanishes  with  ad- 
vancing years. 

"  There  was  a  time  when  meadow,  grove,  and  stream, 
ine  earth,  and  every  common  sight. 
To  me  did  seem 
Apparelled  in  celestial  light, 
The  glory  and  the  freshness  of  a  dream. 
It  is  not  nuw  as  it  hath  been  of  yore; 
Turn  wheresoe'er  I  may, 
By  night  or  day, 
The  things  which  I  have  seen  I  now  can  see  no  more."* 

It  only  remains  to  add  that  another  influence  must  be 
taken  mto  consideration  in  order  to  comprehend  ade- 
quately the  phenomena  of  our  pleasures  and  pains.  Onr 
feehngs  depend  for  their  pleasantness  or  painfulness,  not 
solely  upon  themselves,  but  also  upon  the  relation  in 
which  they  stand  to  one  another.  There  are  two  results 
which  follow  from  this. 

..  A  feeling,  which,  if  allowed  free  play,  might  burs, 

no  vigorous  acfvuy  or  even  absorb  our  consciousness 

for  the  t,me    may  be  held  in  check  or,  perhaps,  whollv 

submerged  by  another  feeling  of  an  opposite  nature,  with 

nw  ^aTT  '°  ^  '''''"='^'^'^-  This  is  strikingly 
.llustrated  by  the  fact  that  the  same  object  may,  by  iti 
d,fferent  aspects,  awaken  extremely  different  feeling. 
Take,  for  example,  an  exhibition  of  vice  like  drunket 
ness  By  h,s  droll  behaviour  the  drunkard  is  adapted 
to  excte  irrepressible  mirth  as  naturally  as.  by  his  deg- 

•  Wordsworth's  OA  on  Ik.  Inlimalion,  cf  ImmorldUy  /„„,  a. 
KcC&ifcCitons  Of  i^ni'uihood. 


V 


332 


Psychology, 


radation  of  humanity,  a  feeling  of  pitiful  sorrow  or  of 
pitiless  scorn.  Take,  again,  sesthetic  feeling  or  taste. 
Its  vagaries  have  long  been  a  subject  of  common  remark. 
Nor  is  this  hard  to  explain,  for  such  feeling  is  often 
modified  or  entirely  neutralised  by  other  feelings  that  are 
out  of  harmony  with  it,  such  as  physical  pain,  mental 
suffering,  anger,  or  envy.  Nearly  all  the  objects  that 
excite  feeling  are  capable  of  being  viewed  in  a  variety  of 
aspects ;  and  consequently  our  emotional  life  is,  in  most 
instances,  of  a  complex  nature,  while  in  many  instances 
it  exhibits  a  strange  union  of  discordant  passions.  In 
such  combinations  it  depends  on  numerous  causes,  which 
of  the  contending  emotions  is  to  prevail ;  but  it  will  be 
found,  in  subsequent  analyses,  that  the  prevailing 
emotion  is  often  misinterpreted  from  failure  to  appreciate 
the  influence  of  the  others  with  which  it  may  have  been 
associated. 

2.  Another  important  fact  results  from  the  relation  of 
different  feelings.  A  feeling  may  owe  its  pleasantness  or 
painfulness,  either  wholly  or  partially  to  its  contrast  with 
the  immediately  preceding  state  of  mind.  Thus  a  men- 
tal state,  which  is  neutral  in  regard  to  pleasure  and  pain, 
may  be  rendered  pleasant  by  being  a  relief  from  previous 
suffering,  while  it  may  be  rendered  painful  by  the  mere 
want  of  some  previous  luxury.  By  the  same  cause  also, 
our  pleasures  and  pains  may  be  intensified ;  and  it  is 
this  fact,  that  gives  to  sudden  calamities  an  additional 
bitterness,  as  well  as  an  additional  zejt  to  unexpected 
good  news.  In  the  vicissitudes  of  life  this  character- 
istic of  our  pleasures  and  pains  finds  fresh  illustration 
every  day  ;  and  therefore  the  pleasures  of  vicissitude 
have  afforded  to  Gray  a  natural  theme  for  one  of  his 
finest  odes. 


■ 


Expression  of  the  Feelings,  333 

**  See  the  wretch,  that  long  has  tost 

On  the  thorny  bed  of  pain, 
At  length  repair  his  vigour  lost 

And  breathe  and  walk  again  : 
The  meanest  floweret  of  the  vale, 
The  simplest  note  that  swells  the  gale, 
The  common  sun,  the  air,  the  skies. 
To  him  are  opening  paradise." 

These  facts  have  been  embodied  in  technical  language 
by  the  psychologists.  In  so  far  as  our  feelings  owe 
their  agreeable  and  disagreeable  characters  to  themselves 
they  are  said  to  be  positive  or  absolute  pleasures  and 
pains.  On  the  other  hand,  the  terms  negative  and 
relative  ^x^  used,  when  pleasure  and  pain  are  due  to 
comparison  with  some  previous  feeling. 

§  2.— 77/*?  Expression  of  Feelings. 

Our  pleasures  and  pains  have  come  to  be  associated 
with    certain    bodily  actions,    so    that    these    can   be 
mterpreted  by  other  persons  as  signs  of  our  sensitive 
condition  at  the  time.     For  accuracy  three  classes  of 
such   signs   may  be  distinguished,      (i.)  There  is  the 
ordinary  form  of  intelligent  expression  for  feelin-  as  well 
as  thought  m  articulate  language.     This,  however  is  a 
mode,  not  of  emotional  expression  in  particular,  but  of 
mental   expression   in    general,    and,    consequently    it 
presents   no   claim    for    special   discussion   here      (2  ) 
There  are  many  actions  which  are  at  first  voluntarily 
adopted   for   the    expression    of  various   feelings,   and 
afterwards    become    so    habitual   as   to   be   practically 
automatic.     Such  are  the  established  usages  of  courtesy 
by   which   we    express    kindliness,    respect,    and   other 

social  feeliniTS-     TTnHp.r  fV,;.,  i,««^  i..  .     ,     .     .    .    , 

-  j3-     -,..--^-,   ,,,,0  i^^a.^J.  uujjuL  lo  DC  iucluded 


334 


Psychology, 


%m 


I' 


It!' 


l4 


also  the  numerous  exclamations  which  different  persons 
ad()i)t  as  expressions  of  joy,  suri)rise,  horror,  and  other 
emotions.     All  expressions  of  this  class  are  particular  in 
their    character.      They    are    limited    to   particular   in- 
dividuals   or    to    particular    communities ;     and    their 
various  forms  are  often  determined  by  trivial  accidents, 
so  that  they  seldom  illustrate,  except  in  a  very  remote 
way,  any  universal  law  of  human  nature.     (3.)  But,  after 
making  every  allowance  for  these  two  modes  of  express- 
ing emotion,  there  remain  other  expressive  actions  which 
are  in  all  men  apt  to  be  stimulated  by  certain  emotions, 
and  which  seem  therefore  to  be  connected  with  these  by 
some  general  law.    Such  are  the  paleness  of  fear  and  the 
blush  of  shame,  the  arching  of  the  eyebrows  and  open- 
ing of  the  mouth  under  the  influence  of  surprise,  the 
furrowing  of  the  brow  into  a  frown  of  anger,  the  curling 
of  the  lip  into  a  sneer  of  scorn,  and  the  effusion  of  tears 
in  sorrow.     Even  the  internal  organs  of  the  body  are 
affected  by  various  emotions.     This  is  indicated  in  the 
use  of  the  word  heart,  as  well  as  of  its  equivalents  in 
other  languages,  as  a  general  name  for  the  sensibility. 
The  terms  melancholy  and  splenetic  connect  the  feelings 
they  express  with  the  liver  and  the  spleen  respectively ; 
while  the  Greek  word  ix-n\6.yxyo.  points  to  some  influence 
of  compassion  on  the  bowels. 

These  phenomena  must  have  excited  speculation  at 
an  early  period.  The  surviving  works  of  the  ancient 
sculptors  show  that  these  artists  had  made  the  natural 
expressions  of  the  emotions  a  subject  of  careful  study. 
It  is  impossible  also  that  mimicry  and  the  histrionic  art 
could  have  attained  the  perfection  which  they  had 
reached  in  ancient  Greece  and  Rome,  unless  play-actors 
had  made  at  least  an  empirical  acquaintance  with  the 
iciions  in  which  feelings  are  commonly  expressed.    The 


Expression  oj  the  Feelings.  335 

totalled  science  of  physiognomy  may  be  said  to  have 
aimed  at  explaining  the  physical  expressions  of  feehng, 
though  it  went  generally  on  the  wrong  scent  by  tracing 
peculiarities  of  temperament  to  permanent  features  of 
anatomical  structure,  or  by  interpreting  them  in  the  light 
of  fanciful  resemblances  between  human  features  and 
those  of  other  animals  which  were  supposed  to  be  en- 
dowed with  certain  natural  dispositions. 

A  new  epoch  in  the  history  of  the  study  may  be  dated 
from  the  publication  of  Sir  Charles  Bell's  Anatomy  and 
Philosophy  of  Expression  as  connected  with  the  Fine  Arts 
which    appeared   first  in    1806   as   a    set   of  somewhat 
fragmentary   essays,    afterwards    in    1844   in   a   greatly 
enlarged    form.       Another   epoch    is    marked    by    Mr. 
Darwin's  Expression  of  the  Emotions  in  Man  and  Animals 
(iSy-s).     This  work,  while  tracing  all  emotional  expres- 
sions to  three  laws,  lays  great  stress  on  the  influence  of 
heredity  in  the  formation  of  these  expressions  ;  and  it 
may,  therefore,  be  taken  as  a  monograph  in  exposition 
of  the   general    evolution-theory,    which    is   commonly 
associated  with  the  name  of  the  author.     More  recently 
Professor  Wundt,  while  maintaining  the  general  theory 
of  evolution,   has    devoted   some    hostile   criticism   to 
Darwin's  special  theory  of  emotional    expressions,  and 
endeavours  to  explain  them  by  three  laws  different  from 
those  of  Darwin.* 


»See  Wundt's  Physiologische  Psychologie,  Vol.  ii.,  pp.  418-428$ 
and  compare  his  article  in  the  Deutsche  Rundschau  for  April,  1877, 
Both  Darwin  and  W-indt  give  a  sketch  of  the  literature  'of  the 
subject.  A  more  recent  work  by  Dr.  Warner,  Physiccd  Expres. 
sious:  itsModei  anC  Principles  (1885),  refers  to  movements  that 
express  phases  of  organic  life  rather  than  of  mind,  and  deals  there- 
fore  with  questions  preliminary  to  those  of  cmoiional  expression. 


33<5 


Psychology. 


It  IS  evident,  then,  that  we  are  still  a  good  way  from 
being  able   to  formuhite  a  law  of  the  relation  between 
fcchngs  and  their  bodily  manifestations.     The  subject  is 
one  where  the  inquiries  of  psychology  and   physiology 
become  mextncably  intertwined,  and  on  a  field   where 
both    psychologist    and    i)hysiologist    must    walk    with 
hesitating  steps.      The  inquiry  is,  indeed,  stric  tly  speak- 
ing, physiological  rather  than  psychological  ;  it  concerns 
the  functions  of  certain  bodily  organs  in  so  far  as  these 
ire  affected  by  mental  states.     In  the  present  condition 
of  science,  therefore,  it  seems  preferable  in  a  handbook 
to  be  content  with  an  occasional  notice  of  such  facts  as 
may  seem  to  be  of  psychological  interest  in  connection 
>v.th  the  manifestation  of  the  various  emotions.      Mean- 
while It  may  be  observed  that  the  tendency  of  emotions 
to  associate  with  bodily  symptoms  is  not  e(,ually  stron<. 
in  the  case  of  all ;  and  in  relation  to  this  difference  there 
IS  a  generalisation  of  Hegel's,  which  seems  sufficiently 
suggestive  to  deserve  mention.      He  observes  that  our 
emotions  may  be  separated  into  two  classes  as  particular 
and  universal,  the  former  referring  to  the  special  condi- 
tion of  the  individual,  like  anger,  shame,  etc.,  while  the 
latter  mcludes  those  emotions  which,  like  the  aesthetic 
moral,  and  religious,  are  free  from  any  tinge  of  individual 
interests.     The  former  preserve  a  close  association  with 
their   bodily   expressions,   whereas   the    latter   tend   to 
liberate  themselves  from  these  accompaniments.     More 
over,  owing  to  the  complexity  of  our  emotional  life  the 
universal  and  the  particular  feelings  often  take  on  some 
of  the  characteristics  of  each  other ;  and  the  more  any 
fee  ing  tends  towards  particularisation,  it  tends  also  to 
embodiment  in  some  form.* 


•  Hegel's  Eucyldo^ddie,  %  401. 


Classification  of  the  Feelings.  337 


§  3- — Classification  of  the  Feelings, 

By  their  very  nature  as  states   of  merely  subjective 
excitement,  the  feelings  cannot  he  macJe  objects  of  such 
distinct  conception  as  the  cognitions.     A  distinct  and 
exhaustive  classification  of  them   is,  therefore,   beyond 
the  reach  of  psychology  in  its  present  stage.     In  their 
lowest  form,  indeed,  as  aspects  of  our  sensations,  they 
follow  of  course  the  classification  of  these;  and  in  their 
higher  forms  it  might  at  first  sight  appear  as  if  they  could 
be  classified  on  the  same  principle  as  the  sen^alions, 
that  is,  by  reference  to  the  bodily  organs  with  which  they 
are  associated.     It  is  true,  they  are  not,  like  the  sensa- 
tions, excited  by  affections  of  the  bodily  organs  ;  but  we 
have  seen  in  the  previous  section,  that  they  are  apt  to 
excite  such  affections  as  their  natural  expression.     This 
principle,  however,  is  found  to  carry  us  only  a  little  way ; 
for  it  is  often  impossible  to  connect  a  peculiar  affection 
of  an  organ  with  one  emotion  exclusively.    A  convincing 
illustration  of  this  is  afforded  by  one  of  the  most  familiar 
manifestations  of  feeling,  namely,  the  action  of  grief  on 
the  lachrymal  glands.     For  the  same  action  is  set  up  by 
the  very  different  emotion  of  anger,  and   even  by  the 
opposite  emotion  of  joy,  so  that  tears  of  rage  and  tears  of 
joy  are  almost  as  familiar  in  daily  life  as  tears  of  sorrow. 
Indeed,  almost  any  emotion  at  a  high  pitch  of  intensity 
seems   capable   of  stimulating  the  secretion  of  tears  j 
while  it  is  a  still  more  remarkable  fact,  that  the  deepest 
griefs  are  tearless. 

"  Home  they  brought  her  warrior  dead, 
She  nor  swooned  nor  uttered  cry  ; 
All  her  maidens  watching  said, 
She  must  ween  or  she  will  die," 


t'i  1 ' 


I 


I  , 


I'i  1 


I- 


"I      - 


33S 


fr 


Psycfwlogy. 


No  oth< 


)rincl,.le  of  classifying  the  emotions  has  been 
suggested  which  is  most  obviously  natural ;    and  con- 
sequently no  classification  has  bee.i  proposed  which  has 
met  with  general  acceptance.*     Any  classification  sug- 
gested at  present  must,  therefore   be  merely  provisional  • 
and  the  following  is  adopted   mainly  as  a  convenient 
order  for  describing  the  development  of  the  emotions  in 
our  mental  life.     It  starts  from  the  rudimentary  stage  of 
feehng  as  simply  the  pleasurable  or  painful  accompani- 
ment  of  sensation.     It  then  proceeds  on  the  assumption 
that  the  more  complex  phenomena  of  our  emotional  life, 
hke  those  of  our  intellectual  life,  are  developed  by  the 
two  universal  processes  of  mental  action,  association  and 
comparison.      As   the   former   is    the    more    primitive 
process,  it  seems  natural  to  notice  first  those  emotions 
which  are  due  mainly  to  association,  and  then  to  take  up 
those  in  which  the  higher  process  of  comparison  is  the 
most  prominent  factor.     There  are  other  emotions  which 
presuppose  a  certain    development  of  intellectual   and 
moral  life,  as  they  arise  in  connection  with  our  cognitions 
and  volitions.     These  two  classes  of  emotions,  which 
may  appropriately  be  styled  intellectual  and  moral,  will 
naturally  come  last  in  our  treatment. 


*  In  Professor  Bain's  The  Emotions  and  the  Will,  Appendix  B 
the  student  will  find  a  brief  outline  of  some  of  :he  modern 
classifications. 


■MBWW.i  m 


Feelings  of  Sense, 


ZZ9 


CHAPTER  I. 


FEELINGS  OF  SENSE. 

IT  ERE  feelings  are  considered  as  merely  certain 
1      aspects  of  the  elementary  mental  states,  out  of 
which    the    emotional   life    proper   is    developed.       A 
superficial  observation  shows  that,  as  sources  of  pleasure 
and  pain,  the  rank  of  sensations  is  the  reverse  of  that 
which  they  take  as  sources  of  knowledge.     The  more 
prominent  in  consciousness  the  pleasantness  or  painful- 
ness  of  a  sensation,  the  less  is  it  adapted  for  that  calm 
contemplation   of  its  intrinsic   qualities  by   which   our 
knowledge   is    built    up.       Consequently,     the   general 
sensations,  in  contrast  with  the  special,  are,  as  a  rule, 
with    the    exception     of    the    muscular,    associated   in 
consciousness  almost   exclusively   with  the   pleasure  or 
pain  they  afford,  and    but  slightly,  if  at   p'.I,  with  any 
information  they  communicate.     The  sensacions  arising 
from  the  healthy  or  unhealthy  action  of  the  nerves,  of  the 
digestive  and  other  organs,  commonly  intrude  themselves 
into  consciousness   only  as   states  of  pleasure  or  pain. 
Occasionally,  indeed,  a  mind  of  scientific  habits  or  of 
practical  prudence  may,  by  observation  and  reasoning, 
arrive  at  a  knowledge  of  important  facts  associated  with 
such  sensations  ;  but  for  the  ordinary  mind  thev  rpmnin 


I 


340 


Psychology. 


\    ai,' 


States  of  a  vague  uninterpreted   delight  or  uneasiness. 
The  result  is,  that  feeling  in  such  cases  remains  indis- 
solubly  attached  to  the  sensation  in  which  it  originates. 
Feelings  of  this  primitive  character  may  be  of  incalculable 
importance  as  contributing  to  the  comfort  and  discomfort 
o.  our  daily  existence,   which  are  of  course  essentially 
dependent  on  our  animal  condition.      But  as  the  sen- 
sations, arising  from  the  functions  of  an-mal  life,  are  in- 
capable  of  being  distinctly  observed  and  compared,  they 
do  not  enter  readily  into  association  with  other  sensations 
to   form  those  more  complex  states  of  feeling   which 
compose  our  emotional  life. 

Still  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  our  emotional  states 
are   altogether    dissociated    /rom    these   vague   general 
sensations.     Occasionally  we   find  the   pleasantness   or 
unpleasantness,  characteristic  of  these  sensations,  applied 
to  the  description  of  feelings  which  have  no  apparent 
connection   with    sense.      The   heart   is    "broken"    or 
"gnawed"  with  care,  the  feelings  are  "wounded"  the 
spirit  IS  "crushed."   Often  we  are  "cut"  to  the  heart,  we 
"burn"    with    impatience  and  other    pa-iions,    we' are 
"chilled "  by  a  friend's  unexpected  manners.     A  certain 
"atmosphere  of  thought"    is   spoken  of  as    "stifling" 
while  we  "breath  a  freer  air  "  when  we  adopt  a  difl-erent 
set  of  convictions.     Even  the  pleasures  and  pains,  which 
are  apt  to  be  thought  of  as  the  most  grossly  animal  of 
all,-the  sensations   of  the  alimentary  canal,— may  be 
transfigured  in  this  way,  as  is   shown  in  the  secondary 
application  of  such   terms  as  relish,  zest,  gusto,   on  the 
one  hand,  as  nauseating  and  disgusting  on   the  other 
These  feelings  have,  in  fact,   been  exalted  into  a  sort  of 
sacredness    in    the    memorable    blessing   of  those   who 
hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness." 
It  is  not  always  easy  to  tell  how  thi<j  tmncr^^^^^^  ^t 


Feelings  of  Sense. 


341 


the  names  of  sensations  is  brought  about.      In  some 
cases  it  seems  to  arise  from  a  resemblance  of  some  sort 
between  the  sensation   and  the  feehngs  designated  by 
its  name.     In  other  cases,  however,  its  source  is  to  be 
found  in  facts   connected   with   the   expression   of  the 
emotions.^    It  was  shown,  in  the  immediately  preceding 
Introduction,  that  emotions  are  associated  in  some  way 
with    various   bodily  organs,   so  that   the   affection   or 
movement    of   these    forms   a   more    or    less    distinct 
expression  of  the  at   ^ciated  emotions.    This  association, 
however  originated,  seems  to  react  on   the  emotions  i 
and  thus  an  organic  affection  or  movement  comes  to  be 
suggest'-e  of  the  emotion  which  it  primarily  expressed. 
For  this  reason,  if  for  no  other,  dyspepsia,  which  may 
be  mduced  by  various  uni)leasant  passions,  especially  by 
those  of  a   malevolent    nature,    tends   to   darken    the 
mental  life  by  passions  of  the  same  order:  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  eupepsia,  which  is  promoted  by  a  cheerlul 
and  benevolent  disposition,  returns  this  favourable  in- 
fluence by  making  the  culture  of  such  a  disposition  more 
natural,     a  careful  observer  may  easily  convince  himself 
by   experiment,   that    those    movements   of  the    facial 
muscles,  which  are  among  the  most  familiar  manifesta- 
tions of  feelings,— smiles,  frowns,  sneers,— can  be  made 
to  excite  in  a  vacant  mind  the  emotions  which  they  com. 
monly  express;  and  it  is  a  significant  confirmation  of 
this,  that,  in  hypnotic  states  in  which  the  consciousness 
is  dominated  by  purely  natural  associations,  it  is  com- 
mon for  an  operator  to  introduce  into  his  subject's  mind 
any  feelings  or  ideas  he  wishes  by  setting  the  features  or 
limbs   to   some   adjustment    usually   expressive   of    an 
emotion. 

There  is  another  fact  deserving  of  notice  in  this  con- 
,  .^ — „;^  „.,^  ^ttiii,  ui)i  wiiatevei  cause  cxcued, 


lir 


]■ 


liiii 


342 


Psychology. 


tend  to  combine  with  their  natural  emotional  associates  ; 
and  consequently  any  agreeable  sensation  is  favourable 
to  joy,  love,  hope,  and  aesthetic  deli-ht,  whereas  any 
disagreeable  sensation  is  apt  to  excite  melancholy,  ill- 
temper,  fear,  despair. 

liut    in  all    such    cases  it  still    remains  a  distinctive 
characteristic  of  the  general  sensations  as  a  class,  that 
they   are   not    so   adapted    for   entering   into    the    vast 
combinations  of  feeling  which  form  the  most  interesting 
as  well  as  the  most  important  feature  of  our  emotional 
life.     Such  combinations  have  their  chief  source  in  the 
definitely  comparable  sensations  of  special   sense,   and 
especially  of  hearing  and  sight.       In  signalising  these 
two  senses  it  is  meant  that  they  are  better  adapted  than 
;»ny  of  the  jthers  for  developing  the  more  complicated 
emotions  as  well  as  the  more  complicated   cognitions; 
nul  this  superior  adaptation  may  be  made  evident  by  a 
comparison  of  the  difTerent  senses  in  respect  of  their 
emotional  power. 

I.  Of  the  two  less  intellectual  senses,  ^aste  and  smell, 
almost  enough  has  been  of  necessity  sa;  \  in  analysing 
the  cognitions  which  they  go  to  form.      The  sensations 
of  taste,  though  more  distinctly  marked  than  those  of 
smell  in  our  ordinary  consciousness,  were  shown  to  be 
but  slightly  endowed  with  associability  or  comparability, 
and  therefore  to  be  incapable  of  distinct  representation.' 
Accordingly,  it  was  observed  that  they  do  not  readily 
enter  into  those  ideal  combinations,  which  are  equally 
essential    to   emotional    and    intellectual   development. 
Moreover,  the  sensations  of  taste  are  ^oo  closely  bound 
up  with  the  functions  necessary  for  the  preservation  of 
lite  to  admit  of  free  indulgence  in  their  pleasantness  ; 
and    this   also,  as  we  shall    find,  excludes    them    from 
^.thetic  uses.     Burke,  indeed,  thinks  that  the  pains,- 


Feelings  of  Sense.  343 

we  mfght  say,  the  horrors.-of  taste  may  enter  into  our 
feelings  of  the  sublime;  but  the  only  instance  he  gives  ii. 
the  literary  use  of  the  phrases,  "a  cup  of  bitterness" 
to  dram  the  bittei  cup  of  fortune,"  "the  bitter  apples 
of  Sodom.-     With  these  may  be  compared  such  terms 
as    ^ sweet"  or  «'sour  temper,"  "sour  looks,"   "bitter 
fate       honeyed  words,"  "bitter  language."   Expressions 
of  this  sort  are  merely  examples  of  what  was  noticed  a 
few   pages   before,-tlie   transference  of  the  names  of 
sensations  to  describe  feelings  which  have  no  connection 
with  sense ;  and  it  may  be  questioned  whether  the  use  of 
these  expressions  ever  approaches  the  character  of  sub- 
limity. 

II.  The  sense  of  smell,  as  already  observe  I  is  in  man 
niamly  emotional.    It  is  true  that,  in  many  species  of  the 
lower  animals,  its  organ  is  more  developed  and  its  uses  are 
more  numerous.    It  serves  to  attract  the  sexes,  as  well  as 
parents  and   young,  to  one  another;  it  forms  a  guide 
in   the   discovery  of  food,  in   evading   more   powerful 
enemies,  and  in  tracking   prey.      Whether   these  facts 
are  causally  connected  with  the  emotional  character  of 
odours  in  man,  is  still  a  matter  of  conjecture.      It  is  no 
mere  conjecture,  however,  that  in  each  individual  these 
sensations  afford  many  of  the  familiar  pleasures  of  life 
Not  only  the  interested  enjoyments  of  the  table,  but  all 
the  purer  delights  of  forest  and  garden,  of  rural  life  in 
general,  derive  a  large  element  from  the  pleasure«=  of 
smel!       This  naturally  leads  us  away  from  the  simple 
sensations  of  odour  to  the  emotional  associations  which 
they  form ;  but  although  the  subject  belongs  p  ■or>erly  to 
the  next  chapter,  it  is  not  altogether  out  of  place  to 


•  /«^«/r,  into  th.   Origin  of  cur  Ideas  of  the  Sul.li„,e  auj 
Beauiijul,  Part  !!.,§'» 


<«• 


344 


Psychology. 


n  I 


notice  the  comparative  readiness  with  which  odours 
enter  into  such  associations.  It  has  long  been  observed, 
for  example,  that  odours  have  an  influence  on  the  sexual 
feelings;  and  the  use  of  incense  in  religious  service  points 
to  some  connexion  with  the  feelings  of  devotion.  It  is 
true,  that  these  emotional  influences  of  smell  are  more 
prominent  among  Southern  people  \  and  it  may  be  in- 
ferred that  the  increased  and  uninterrupted  development 
of  odours  under  a  warmer  sun  and  a  perpetual  summer, 
is  paralleled  by  an  increased  development  of  sensibility 
to  their  effects.* 

III.  Touch  is  commonly  conceived  as  more  destitute 
of  emotional  character  than  any  of  the  special  senses. 
It  is,  therefore,  a  remarkable  fact,  that  the  icnw  feelings 
which  is  the  most  general  name  for  the  phenomena  of 
pleasures  and  pains,  has  been  borrowed  from  the  sense  of 
touch.  As  already  hinted  in  treating  of  our  tactile  per- 
(Options,  the  emotional  side  of  this  sense  is  probably 
overlooked  from  the  fact  that  its  contributions  to  our 
mental  life  have  become  largely  absorbed  in  those  of 
sight.  Yet  a  more  careful  examination  soon  shows  that 
the  emotional  elements  of  touch  are  neither  few  nor 
unim[)ortant ;  and  that  they  obtrude  themselves  in  our 
liaily  consciousness  is  shown  by  the  fact,  that  a  strong 
emotional  impression  is  very  commonly  described  by 
saying  that  we  feci  touched,  while  a  strong  emotional 
stimulant  is  spoken  of  as  toucJiing.  The  effect  of  touches 
upon  our  feelings  varies  according  to  the  jiart  of  the  skin 
aflected,  as  well  as  the  quality  of  the  sensation  excited. 

I.  The  emotional  susceptibility  of  different  parts  of 


*  S(niie  intereslinn;  observations  on  this  point  will  be  found  in  a 
popular,  but  su^t;estive,  little  book  by  Dr.  George  Wilson,  The 
Five  Gateways  of  A'lioit'la/ge,  pp.  62-85 


Feelings  of  Sense. 


345 

the  skin  evidently  does  not  show  a  close  parallel  to  their 
ntellectual  d.scriminativeness.    The  reason  of  this  I  take 
to  be,  not  that  the  parts  of  great  discriminative  ,K)wcr 
are  not  also  extremely  sensitive  to  the  pleasantness  and 
unpleasantness  of  touches,  but  that  the  two  modes  of 
mental  activity,  cognition  and  emotion,   are  essentially 
incompatible.     Accordingly  where,  as  in  the  hand,  con- 
sciousness   .s    usually  engrossed    with    the    information 
g'ven,  the  emotional  uses  of  the  organ  are  reduc  ed  to  a 
niin.mum.     Still  the  hand  affords  many  tender  delights, 
as  well  as  many   repulsive   unpleasantnesses,   of  t(n.ch. 
I    IS  the  grasp  of  the  hand  that  is  taken,  over  most  of  the 
ctvihsed  world,  as  the  appropriate  expression  of  common 
kindly  feelings.      The  tongue,  though   seldom  used  l>y 
man  for  discriminating  anything  but  articles  of  food,  and 
though  the  most  acute  part  of  the  whole  organism,  is  yet 
scarcely  ever  applied  to  emotional  uses.    But  dogs,  cows 
and  other  animals,  lick  the  objects  of  their  affection.     li 
ism  parts  not  commonly  employed  for  purposes  of  dis- 
crimination, that  the  highest  emotional  susceptibility  is 
realised.     The  lip  and  cheek,*  and  even  parts  of  l.wer 
intellectual  rank,  are  commonly  associated  with  the  most 
delicious  enjoyments  of  touch. 

2.  Among  the  various  kinds  of  tactual  sensation,  th:,i 
which  yields  the  purest  and  most  independent  pleasure 
IS  smoothness.  Softness  is  also  a  plentiful  source  of 
agreeable  sensations;  but  it  is  more  dependent  on 
concomitant  feelings,  and  accordingly  it  is  more  apt  to 
be  supplanted  by  such  associations  as  a  rough  or  clammy 
surface.  On  the  other  hand,  even  the  hardest  substanc  cs 
when  highly  polished,  are  capable  of  yielding  an  indc- 
pcndent  delight  in  their  smoothness.     Even  the  pleasure 


•  Some  African  tribes  rut>  no«es  i!)  e>: I  rp-Mf-r     f  '  •      '•    r    ,- 


li^  I 


k 


H      n 


346 


Psychology. 


that  we  take  in  the  sight  of  polished  surfaces  is,  in  a 
large  measure,  a  revival  by  suggestion  of  the  tactile  feel- 
ing which  such  surfaces  excite.  The  additional  gratifica- 
tion, also,  which  we  derive  from  gloss  or  lustre,  though 
partly  visual,  is  likewise  partly  due  to  its  manifest 
suggestion  of  smoothness.* 

But  the  greatest  volume  of  enjoyment,  that  we  owe  to 
touch,   is  found   in   the   combination   of  its  two  most 
emotional   sensations,  smoothness  and   softness.      The 
delicate    petals   of   our   common    flowers,    the    downy 
feathers   of  birds,   the   sleek   and   glossy  fur  of  many 
animals,  are  objects  over  which   the  fingers  play  with 
perpetual  delight ;  while  the  use  of  feathers  and  furs  for 
clothing,  as  well  as  the  imitation  of  their  qualities  i.i 
cloths  of  velvety  texture,  is  evidently  suggested  by  the 
agreeableness  in  the  touch  of  smooth  and  soft  bodies. 
But  it  is  the  human  skin,  especially  in  the  infant  and 
the  female  sex,  that  realises  most  completely  the  con- 
ditions of  delight  in  tactual  sensation;  and  the  tenderness 
of  such  delight  has  furnished  to  thought  and  language  a 
description  characteristic  of  all  kindly  emotions. 

Among  the  pains  of  this  sense  hardness  and  roughness 
are  of  course  the  most  prominent ;  and  their  combina- 
tion, as  in  unwrought  stone  or  unpolished  iron,  is  as 
repulsive  as  the  union  of  their  opposites  is  attractive. 
'Ihe  terms  hard  and  rough  are,  therefore,  of  very 
extensive  application  to  objects  that  excite  emotions  of  a 
disagreeable  nature.  But  it  is  important  also  to  observe 
that  smoothness  and  softness,  especially  the  latter,  are 


*  The  reader  of  Burke's  Inquiry  info  the  Origin  0/ our  Ideas  cf 
the  Sublime  and  Beautiful,  may  recall  the  extravagant  importance 
which  he  attaches  to  smoothness  among  the  conditions  of  beauty. 
See  especially  iii.,  §  14,  and  iv.,  §  20-25. 


Feelings  of  Sense. 


347 

themselves  capable  of  an  unpleasant  excess.     Perhaps 
the   unpleasantness  in  such  cases  is  due  to  defective 
stimulation;  and  that  may  be  tlie  reason  why  ihe  terms 
'"■oo/h  and  soft  are  often  figuratively  applied  to  object, 
of  a  mean  and  contemptible  character.     But  whatever 
m..y  be  the  cause  of  this  unpleasantness,  the  pain  of 
Hard   and   rough   impressions    is    undoubtedly  due   to 
excessive  stimulation.      Hardness  evidently  is  akin  to 
hose   violent    pressures    which    crush    and   bruise   the 
t'ssues.      On    the    other    hand,    roughness    resembles 
various  sensations  of  an  intermittent  char.-,cter,   which 

discord.     In  such  sensations  it  seems  as  if  the  inter 
"iission  gave  time  for  the  organ  to  recuperate,  and  thus 

w.ich  would  be  impossible  under  the  numbing  influence 
of  a   continuous  stimulation.      In   this    way   we    may 
explam  the  unpleasant  effect  produced  by  a'discordant 
clash  of  sonorous  vibrations,  or  by  a   flickering  light. 
Thus  also  ,t  would  appear  that  instead  of  the  continuous 
™press.on  made  by  a  smooth  body,  a  rough  surface 
being  formed  of  projections  separated  by  minure  intervall' 
owes  Its  unpleasantness  to  the  violent  tactual  excitemen! 
caused  by  a  series  of  intermittent  shocks 

1  he  sensation  of  weight  is  mainly  muscular,  but  may 
be  noticed  here,  as  it  is  also  to  a  slight  extent  ,actu..l 
the  only  deflmte  enjoyment  which  such  sensation 
yields  IS  that  arising  from  a  weight  light  enough  to  be 
borne  with  moderate  exertion,  so  that  //^r/S/ comes  to  be 
descriptive  of  all  performances  that  are  made  pleasant 
by  being  easy.  On  the  other  hand,  the  extreme  easiness 
of  any  action  is  unsatisfying  ;  and  consequently  //,/)/  i, 
ofter,  applied  to  objects  of  contemptible  triviality.  But 
the  decided  form  of  uneasiness  connected  with  this  clas. 


It  I 


11 


!<     ■' 


348 


Psychology. 


! 


of  sensations  is  that  of  excessive  weight ;  and  therefore 
heavy  is  a  term  of  wide  use  to  describe  the  various 
feelings  arising  from  the  difficulties  of  life,  by  which  its 
energies  are  oppressed. 

It  only  remains  to  add  that,  as  touch  is  endowed  in  an 
eminent  degree  with  distinct  representability,  its  pleasures 
and  pains  enter  readily  into  those  ideal  combinations 
which  form  the  more  complex  emotions.  Thus,  •'  the 
touch  of  a  vanished  hand,"  and  "  remembered  kisses 
after  death,"  are  referred  to  in  well-known  poems  of  the 
Laureate's  as  revivable  with  distinctness  and  suggestive 
with  power  enough  to  stir  the  deepest  movements  of  our 
emotional  nature. 

IV.  Hearing  is  a  sense  of  the  very  highest  emotional 
value.     Superior  to  touch  in  intellectual  adaptation,  it  is 
superior  also  in  capacity  for  pleasure  and  pain.     In  this 
capacity  it  is  superior  to  sight  as  well,  so  that,  although 
it  does  not  ally  itself  so  definitely  with  specific  emotions, 
yet  it  originates  some  which  stir  our  nature  more  pro- 
foundly.      This    is   most   familiarly   illustrated   in   the 
influence  of  music.     Here,  it  must  be  borne  in  mind,  the 
influence  of  this  art  is  considered,  not  in  all  its  manifold 
character,  but  merely  at  its  lowest— its  sensuous  stage. 
There  is  considerable  difl'erence  of  opinion  as  to  the 
nature  and  origin  of  the  emotional  eff"ects  produced  by 
music;  but  all  theories  on  the  question  must  recognise  a 
certain  basis  in  organic  sensibility,  on  which  higher  efi"ects 
are  built  up.     That  sensibility  implies,  as  has  been  ex- 
plained in  earlier  pages,  a  capacity  for  agreeable  and 
disagreeable  impressions,   both  from  single  tones,  and 
from  the  melodic  and  harmonic  relations  of  different  tones. 
Single  tones  depend  for  their  pleasant  or  unpleasant 
character  on  their  intensity,  their  pitch,  or  their  quality. 
Extremely  loud  or  extremely  shrill  sounds  are  painful ; 


Peelings  of  Sense.  349 

and  the  pain  seems  obviously  due  to  the  violence  of  the 
organic  action  which  they  cxcile.      Harsh  (lualilics  of 
tone  have  been  already  traced  to  the  same  cause  as 
discords,— the  inharmonious  iiitcference  of  theoveitoncs 
with  the  fundamental  tone.*     Now,  the  unpleasantness 
of  discord  has  just  been  explained  as,   like  roughness, 
caused  by  a  series  of  intermittent  stimuhuions,   which 
allow  the  organ  to  recover  between  each,  and  thus  call 
forth  a  wasteful  expenditure  of  ener-y.f     On  the  olher 
hand,   the  unsatisfactory  character  of  the  weak  unes, 
which  from  the  absence  of  overtones  possess  no  decided 
quality,  is  perhaps  due  to  defective  stimulation. 

The  sensibility  to  auditory  enjoyment,  however,  in  its 
refmed  forms,  is  a  later  growth  of  evolution  in  the  indi- 
vidual  as  well  as  in  the  race.      Not  to  speak  of  the 
innumerable  harsh  cries  of  the  lower  animals,  or  the 
deafening  noises  which   monkeys  deli-ht  to   make   by 
beating  slicks  as  well  as  by  screeching,  it  is  evident  that, 
in    early    life,    when    the    auditory   sensibility    is    still 
undevclo[)cd,  and  the  general  nervous  organisation  robust, 
the  ear  can  not  only  endure,   but  enjoy,  violent  excite- 
ments,-loud  noises  that  irritate,  if  they  do  not  stun,  an 
adult  ear,  or  wild  tones  that  pay  little  or  no  regard  to 
musical  law.     The  coarse  sensibility  of  the  savage  enables 
him  also  to  find  delight  in  a  music  which  is  distinguished 


*  See  Book  ii..  Part  i.,  Chapter  i.,  §  4  (B).  ii. 

t  The  depth  of  feeling  which  may  be  stirred  by  the  mere  organic 
effect  of  discord  is  suikingly  disj  layed  by  the  experience  of 
hypnotic  patients.  "A  discord,  such  as  two  semi-tones  sounded 
at  the  same  time,  ho7vcver  soft,  will  cause  a  sensitive  patient  to 
shudder  and  recede  when  hypnotised,  allhougli  ignorant  of  music, 
and  not  at  all  disagreeably  aiTected  by  such  discord  when  awake." 
(Nauypnohgy,  or  the  Rationale  of  Nervous  Sleep,  by  James  Lraid. 
p.  62«  note). 


fi 


i^ 


h,  I 


3S0 

mainly 


Psychology, 


its  overpowering  stimulation  of  the  sense.  It 
may  be  observed,  moreover,  that,  as  the  limit  of  healthy 
excitement  varies  even  in  the  individual  for  hearing  as 
well  as  for  other  sensi-s,  men  of  general  refinement,  in 
hours  of  boisterous  mirth,  relapse  not  unnaturally  into 
the  early  rude  taste  for  uproarious  song  and  clamour. 

There  is,  however,  a  peculiar  richness  in  the  emotional 
elTects  of  music,  which  extend  over  a  vastly  wider  area 
than    the    mere    sensibility    to    sound.       It    is    in    fact 
practically  impossible  to  set  a  limit  to  the  feelings  which 
may  be  stirred  by  this  art  ;  and  no  psychological  theory 
could  be  accepted  as  a  complete  account  of  the  nature 
and  origin  of  the  emotional  influence  of  music,  which 
restricted  that  influence  to  one  set  of  emotions,  such  as 
sexual  feeling,  or  derived  it  exclusively  from  one  class  of 
sounds,  like  those  of  speech.      The  truth  seems  to  be, 
that  tones  readily  associate  with  all  the  leading  emotions 
of  the  human  soul,   and   that    therefore   the   sensuous 
gratifications  of  tone  become  at  once  intermingled  with 
some  of  the  associated  emotions,  though  which  of  ihese 
shall  be  stirred  must  be  determined  by  the  various  cir- 
cumstances of  the  individual  and  of  the  moment.     It  is 
a  significant  fact  that,  in  Collins'  fine  Ode  to  Music,  the 
passions,  though  of  the  most  conflicting  order,  are  all 
pictured  as  resorting  to  this  art,  at  once  for  their  approp- 
riate stimulus  and  for  their  appropriate  expression. 

V.  The  sensations  of  light  arid  colour  owe  their  pre- 
eminent intellectual  value  to  their  comparative  neutrality 
in  respect  of  pleasure  and  pain.  The  organic  feeling  is 
here  so  slight,  that,  in  mature  life,  at  least  among 
educated  minds,  it  is  generally  absorbed  in  the  pre'^ 
dominant  perceptions,  with  their  intellectual  and  emo- 
tional accompaniments.  Still  the  emotional  side  of 
visual  sensation  is  not  wholly  obscured;  and  among 


Feelings  of  Sense.  35, 

children  as  well  as  the  untutored  and  uncivilised   who 

served  '     ""'^  '""'"'  '''  '""^'^'^''^  '»  '«  <"> 

I.  The  sensibility  to  visual  pleasure  commences  with 

the  earliest  form  of  visual  sensation.     There  can  be  no 

doubt  of  the  fact,  that  for  months  before  the  child   how^ 

z:^^ "'  ^°"'"=- ''  ""<^'  p-ur:  in  ir 

'■ght ,      and  this  remams  throughout  life  the  simplest 

(a)  When  pure  light  is  spread  ove'r  a  lar.e  expanse. 

as  m  a  lummous  atmosphere  with  the  sun  away  from 

he  eyes,  or  even  when  it  is  softened,  as  by  a  lampsh.de 

he  sensation  excited  belongs  to  the  gentle' and"':  h.'^' 

cktss,  and  consequently  light  has  always  been  regarded 

as  tself  one  of  the  purest  of  organic  gratifuations,  and 

Z^!Z      %T.f  ""  "'■ '^^'  8"'ifications  of  life  in 
fceneral.       'Truly,"  says  an  old  Hebrew,  ",he  li.-ht  is 

::::  „^"     ^.^f =•-"'  ••-«  -  <»  '<-  '^e  ;yes  to  bthold 

tone  of'       •       r  """  "  °"'  "^^'  '^  ^^^oed  by  many  a 
lone  of  ancent  literature.      So  the  light  of  life  is  ofL 
used  as  a  symbol  of  all  that  m.kes  life  w„r,h  living 
wh,  e  terms   l,ke  M„u  and  .«.«,  expressive  of  cTe"; 
hght,    are    found   appropriately   descriptive  of  general 

ppmess  whereas  terms,  that  express'  the  absence  o 
htht,  such  as  si^dce,  o.  gloom,  are  extended  naturally  to 
any  joyless  condition  of  mind.  ^ 

ib)  But  light,  when  concentrated  in  brilliant  centres. 


•  Preytr,  Di,  Sieli  da  fTwdis,  pp.  6.17. 

T  Eccles.     xi.,    7.       The    commenlators    cite    in    .-ll.,. 

Euripides, /M,>.  ,„  >)„«,  ,..    „.o  .     ....  illustration 


v^^. 


352 


Psychology, 


M  \ 


is  a  powerful  stimulant.  The  sensation  produced  is 
then  of  an  exciting  character;  and  its  enjoyment 
indicates,  therefore,  a  coarser  sensibility.  The  pleasure 
that  we  find  in  bonfires  and  pyrotechnic  displays  does 
not  imply  any  refinement  of  sense. 

2.  It    is    also    a    coarser    sensibility    that    draws    its 
pleasures    from    the    colours   at   the   red   end   of   thj 
spectrum.       Experiments    show     that    these    are    the 
earliest    to   be   recognised    by    the    child;*    and    they 
remain   throughout    life    the    most    exciting    forn  s    of 
colour-sensation.     The  ecstasy  of  children  and  savages 
at  the  sight  of  brilliant  reds  is  an  evidence  of  the  strong 
effect  which  these  produce.     A  curious  illustration   of 
this   efTect    is    sometimes    found   in    states   of    mental 
disease,  when  the  consciousness  fiills  away  from  rational 
control  into  the  sway  of  mere  natural  sensation.     Thus, 
the  dancers  of  St.  Jr)hn  and  St.  Vitus  in  Germany  were 
infuriated,  while  the  Tarantati  of  Italy  were  thrown  into 
an  ecstasy  of  deli-ht,  by  red  colours.!     This  efTect  is 
further   illustrated    by  the    experience   of  some  of  the 
joatients    cured    of    congenital    blindness,    while    their 
visual    sensations    still   retained   the    impressiveness   of 
novelty.      Cheselden's  patient  is  said  to  have  thon-ht 
scarlet  the  most  beautiful  of  ill  colours,  and  of  others 
those    pleased     him     most     which    were    "gay,"  — an 
exi)ression  I  take  to  mean   those  in   which   red  is  the 
predominant  tint.     On  the  other  hand,  black  gave  him 
uneasiness,    and    a    negro   at    first    excited    feelings    of 
horror.     It  is  perhaps  indicative  of  some  individual,  or 
it  least  feminine,  characteristic,  that  Wardrope's  patient 


♦  Preyer,  pp.  6-17. 

.•■  Hecker's  Epidcniics  of  the  AJiddle  Ages,  Part  ii..  pp.  17,  ig 
i.ote,  29,  41.  ^' 


Feelings  of  Senst.  35, 

thought  the  blue  sky  the  prettiest  thing  she  ha<l  ever 
soon ;  but,  when  tried  with  other  colours,  she  hked 
y  I  ow  best,  then  pink.  Apparently  ck.rk  objects  looked 
ugl)  to  her  as  they  did  to  Cheseldcn's  patient  •  'Ihe 
more  violent  emotions,  therefore,  seem  naturally  to 
a  ocate  w,th  red  colours,  while  the  colours  at  the 
other  end  of  the  spectrum  have  an  affinity  rather  with 
the  milder  emotions.f 

3-  While  light,  pure  or  coloured,  is  the  peculiar 
^nsation  of  si.ht,  the  eye  seems  adapted  to 'receive 
pie  surable  unpressions  from  other  visual  phenomena  a, 

,„!';,  ,1™'  '"'■^^'J-  "''81^'  be  thought  to  require  an 
mtelleetual  appreciation  for  its  enjoyment ;  but  as  har- 
mony  of  tones  and  probably  also  harmony  of  colour, 
answer  to  some  adaptation  in  the  organs  of  hearing  and 
s.ght,  form  also  seems  to  be  the  source  of  a  purely 
organic  pleasure,  even  though  the  gratification  it  affords 

calls  forth  In  consequence  of  the  various  factors  of 
visual  gratification  being  thus  usually  intermingled,  it  is 
diflicult  to  obta-  direct  evidence  of  the  above  s.atemen  • 
but  It  seems  to  be  certified  by  the  fact,  that  Cheselden's' 


•  Philotophuat  Traniactiom,  1826,  pp.  534.5 

Jl^'-'Cl!  T  't  "°"  """"«  """"  °'"'"  -'°-.  k  no. 
certain  ,    but  it  has    been    con  ectured    that    the    less    frMiient 

occurrence  of  the  f„™er  ■„  nature  allows  the  sens  WU.y  „T  h 

eye  for  them  longer  periods  of  repose,  and  consequently  I  hiUer 

degree  of  sumulatton  without  being  exhausted.      This,  howevl,  is 

by  no  n,eans  obv.ou.sly   the  most   natural   explanation.        rjy 

heory  ,t  is  perhaps  worth  while  ,0  keep  in  tiew  the  fact    thT. 

though  red  rays  themselves  are  not  favourable  ,0  vegetation   ve^; 

processes  of  plant-life  are  stimulated  by  orange  aSd  yello  Jll' 

powerlully  than  by  any  other  clours,   while  these    pro  «e,  ,  , 

.Imus.  arrested  by  the  rays  towards  the  vide,  end  nf -b.   !'..." 


i;i 


'^^mr-.  -m'-i^ 


354 


Psychology. 


1,1 


patient  received  a  peculiar  pleasure  from  smooth  and 
regular  bodies  at  a  time  when  he  had  not  yet  learnt  to 
distinguish  shapes  by  sight,   and  could  not  tell  what  it 
was  in  bodies  that  made  them  pleasing.*     The  pleasure 
.vhich  the  eye  takes  in  well-shaped  bodies  may,  indeed, 
not  be,  in  the  most  restricted  sense,  a  visual  sensation  ; 
it  may  be  due  rather  to  the  easy  muscular  sweep  of  the 
eye  while  surveying  such  objects  in  contrast  with  the 
broken,  and  therefore  more  violent,  effort  of  grasping  an 
angular   or   irregular   form.       For   the  muscles,    being 
mostly  levers  resting  on  a  fulcrum  at  one  end,  describe 
most  easily  a  curved  line   with  the  other,   so  that  any 
line  with  abrupt  angles  is  the  result  of  an  uneasy  strain 
until  it  becomes  easy  by  discipline.     But  the  pleasure 
we  take  in  the  form  of  visible  bodies,  even  if  it  belorgs 
to  the  muscular   sensations,    is    noticed   here   for  con- 
venience, as  it  affords   ah   opportunity  of  pointing  out 
how  insensibly  the  organic  pleasures  of  sight  pass  over 
into  that  larger  store  of  mingled  sensuous  and  intellectual 
enjoyments,  of  which  the   visible  world   is  the   source. 
The  very  simplest  perceptions  oi  sight  cannot  but  open 
up  this  world  of  joy  to  so»  - ,  extent.     It  is  true,  that 
to  most  minds  the  visible  world  has  become  so  stale, 
that   its   perennial    delightfulness    is   seldom    fek;    but 
there  are  few  who  are  not  incited  at  times  to  a  fresh 
relish  of  iis  pleasures,  while  there  are  many  who  continue 
to  find  in  them  the  purest  enjoyment  of  life.     Most  men 
have   probably   overcome    the    numbing   effect    of    the 
v/orld's  staleness  at  times,  as  when,  after  the  organism 


*  The  exact  words  of  the  report  are  :— "He  thought  no  object 
so  agreeable  as  those  which  are  smooth  and  regular,  though  he 
could  form  no  judgment  cf  their  shape,  nor  guess  what  it  was  in 
any  object  that  was  pleasing." 


^:-fHiA''' 


Feelings  of  Sense. 


has  had 


3SS 


its  sensibility  quickened  by  a  tnght's  reoose 

awn '?„;'::"''  "'^'^-  ^^-  •«  'he%:e„lours       X 

enable'  „" ,  '  ."""f^  °'  ^"^'^  ^"  -"P^nence  may 
enabk  us  to  realise  tlie  keenness  of  the  delieht  «iih 
wb.ch  the  visible  world  discloses  itse.f  to  the  v  f  L  t  e 
first  .,„,e.  It  is  said  of  Cheselden's  patient,  thltr-b  fore 
:o2:Z'^-  '^  "P^"^^'  l"le  advantage  fro'n,  se/^g 
wri     e     foX"';"K°T'""  '■°^'  «^^P'  ^-d-g-d 

Pie  sur^   n       ,r    '    I  "'™«'"  ''^  ^""''l  have  no  more 
pleasure  m  walking  abroad  than  h  ■  had  in  the  garden 

wb,ch  he  could  do  very  safely  and  readily"      Bu'fe; 
h  s  s,ght  was  restored,  "  he  said,  every  new  objec   wa  " 

Zed  la'  r'  "^  "'"^"^^  ""^   -  -^-^    *ar  h 
wanted  ways  to  express  it;    but  his  gr,Mitud»  to   his 

operator  he  could  not  conceal,  never  seeing  him   fo 

«.met^e  without  tears  of  joy  in  his  eyes 'and  o.h 

at  any  time  when  he  was  expected,  he  would  be  so 

ment.  A  year  after  first  seeing,  being  carried  to  Epsom 
Downs,  and  observing  a  large  prospect,  he  was  exceed 
.ngiy^delighted  with  it,  and  cil  J  it 'a  Lw  ktd'o; 

VI     As   being  of  peculiar  importance  amons    the 

general  sensations,  those  of  the  muscular  sense  dLve 

pecia,  mention  here.      It  has  been  already  observed 

that  -he  leelings  of  tension  and  of  slow  movement  are 

most  vaUiable  for  purposes  of  cognition,  whii:X  e 

and  pain.     The  sensations  of  mere  tension-of  a  dead 
stram-are  probably  least  emotional.   There  are,  indeed 

o    hTbof-""  '"'  '"'"  ™""^«^<^  "'*  'he  s  P      ; 
of  the  body  m  an  erect  posture,  w,th  the  steady  resistance 

'0  any  force,   with   being    baffled   by  an  Lupe^b  e 


Mi 


I 


h 


356 


Psychology. 


obstacle  ;  but  these  emotional  effects  are  largely  due  to 
associated  ideas  rather  than  to  the  mere  sensations 
involved.  * 

The  emotional  character  of  the  muscular  sense  is  more 
decidedly  seen  in  the  sensations  connected  with  move- 
ment.    Even   slow  movements  are    not    without    some 
pleasures  and  pains.      Their  sensations  are  of  the  mild 
-md  soothing  type;    and  accordingly  they  are  often  of 
>ervice  when  a  soothing  effect  is  desired.     This  effect  is 
heightened  by  the  fact  that  slow  movements,  at  least  in 
early  life,   when   our  most  common   ideas  are  formed, 
scarcely  ever  arise   from  a  vigorous   condition   of  the 
muscles,   but   rather   from    iheir   exhaustion   or   decay. 
Slow   movements  are  therefore   felt  to   be  in  harmony 
with    conditions   of  weariness  and  sadness.     They  are 
adopted  in  the  rock  of  the  cradle  and  in  the  lullaby  to 
soothe  a  child  fretful  with  sleepiness.     We  prefer  a  staid 
gait  and  sedate  manners,   quiet   talk  and  slow  music, 
when  tired  with  a  hard  day's  work,  or  when  saddened  by 
any  mournful  event ;  and  in  general  the  aged  exhibit  this 
preference  at  all  times.     Mainly  to  the  same  cause  also 
must  we  ascribe  the    pace    of   funerals,    the   elocution 
of  religious  services,  the  tune  of  plaintive  and  solemn 
music.     On  the  other  hand,  to  the  young,  and  to  all  in 
the  fresh  vigour  of  health,  slow  movements  are  a])t  to 
supply  but  an  imperfect  outlay  of  energy;  and  in  the  slang 
which  fast  society  has  originated,  as  already  remarked, 
slow  is  a  common  and  not  inexpressive  term  for  anything 
insipid. 

The  sensations  of  rapid  movement  are  of  the  exciting 
type,  and  in  excessive  forms  approach  the  nature  of 
intoxication.  The  mercurial  movements  of  the  youiig, 
the  exuberant  muscular  display  of  the  healthy,  ar^ 
evident  sources  of  keen  animal  enjoyment      Skating, 


Feelings  of  Sense.  ,„ 

with  the  unusual  speed  and  grace  and  novelty  of  iu 

forms  of  ,h,s  pleasure.      The  dance  also  derives  a  lari 
hare  of  Us  attraction  from  .he  same  source,  though,  from 
he  accessory  crcumstances  in  which  it  is  frec^ently 
njoyed,  ,t  ,s  more  apt  to  work  an  unhealthy  excitement 
and  thus  to  acquire  the  tyrannous  fascination  of  co"  s"; 
stimulants       This  is  proved  not  so  mnch  by  the  exc«s 
-th  wh,ch  this  muscular  excitement  is  sough,  in  tte 
common  d,ss,pa,ions  of  society,  but  still  more  s.ri^  ,1 
m  the  frenzied  extravagance  of  barbaric  religious  festivals 
■n  wh.ch  the  dance  forn.s  a  prominent  ceremony.     T^ 
worship  of  Demeter  and  Dionysus  in  the  ancient  world! 
the  dancng  mamas  of  the  middle  ages,  and  the  bnis.er! 
ous  exh.bumns   of  religious   ecstasy   in   some  modern 
communities,  are  instances  of  .he  intoxicating  excite- 
ment that  may  be  stimulated  by  the  rapid  rhythmical 
movements  of  a  dance. 

satfon'*'  'p''!l'"'  "  "'  '"^'"'^"'•-'^y  ^''^ee  of  mere  sen- 
sation     By  the  process  of  abstraction  a  sensation  may 
a  ract  attention  to  one  of  its  aspects  exclusive  of  the 
others;    and   thus   its   pleasantness   or    unpleasantness 
n  ay  become  predominan,   without  regard  So  any  of  its 
other  qualities.     Usually  the  pleasure  or  pain,  of  which 
at  any  moment  we  are  conscious,  arise,  from  a  varie.v  of 
sou.ces  ;  and  therefore,  even  :f  partly  „r  wholly  due  to 
sense,  it  loses  the  dcf.ni.enes,  belonging  to  any  single 
pleasant  or  unpleasant  sensation.      "  ;,ere  tliu/resuV 
sometimes  a  feeling  of  v..gue  a>;,   • :  bleness  or  disagree- 
ableness.-that   emo.ion.,1    .tate   which    we  express  by 
such  terms  as  joy,  gladness,  deli,:ht.  mirth,  cheerfulness 
on  the  one  hand,    Sy  grief,    sadness,   sorrow,   on    the 
other.  ' 

But,  to  understand  our  emotional  life  in  all  its  rich- 


\ 


I 


'1, 


358 


Psychology. 


ness,  we  must  investigate  the  specific  forms  which  this 
general  agreeableness  and  disagreeableness  assume  u  ider 
the  play  of  modifying  influences.  These  influences, 
when  external,  can  act  only  through  the  processes  of 
mind ;  and  the  process,  which  comes  into  play  first,  is 
association. 


I)   It 


Feelinss  Orisinating  i„  Associatu 


ton. 


359 


CHAPTER    II. 


m 


ii: 


FEELINGS    ORIGINATING    IN    ASSOCIATION. 

ATcSKr  ^-  "■-  — ■•- 

objects  or  causes      Th.  .  """'"'""^""^  wi'h  their 

are  described  ^  sulh  .ermT'°"rf '"'  "'"^  °"S'"=-'^^. 
and  hatred,  as  well  as  o.h.  ^  ^"""  '"'  *^'"^^'  '°™ 
some  of  ;hich  „i,  br'r''";"'""""^  ^^P--»-. 
formation  of  such  s  ates  i,        ,     •  """'^*'^"='y-      The 

-re  Of  the  pl^rd^^Vr  tf  "h'T  ^ 
arise.     These  pleasure,  nn^   ^  ^.'"^    out  of  which  they 

certain  ohjectrwir^:  ^hT^Hhuf  ''^'^  ■'" 
co-existent.      When  „e  becom//  necessarily 

existence,  an  associatln  '  o™ed  bl?"'  "'.  ""^  =°- 
and  its  obiect,  so  that  the  feZg  „  ^r,  Z  T' 
or,  as  happens  probably  oftener    thT  ll  ''''""' 

■"erely  remembered  or  ijlj^  1         '     '  "''"  "''"" 

-■'h  which  it  was  asso   a  e        iror""  "'  '"''"« 
which  this  has  n„  „  obseive  t..e  effect 

^r  the  re;,Liri:;r'pi::rt'°r"''^-'- 

very  nature  of  pleasure    ./L  •       ™'    '^°'"    "-^ 

to    prolong    itf^if       'i  r,'""""''"'''^^""P"'«« 

,         ^    '^  >    "    Jt    is    painfu  ,    there    ;<5    ,      •    •, 

mpulse  to  bring  it  to  an  end       Bu    r  "  " 

long    a     pleasure    without    keepin.      '       """"'  f'^"" 

«"e  object   which   causes   it   T  cannot  r"'""'"""^ 

'   1   cannot   bung  a  pain 


!^ 


Ittii 


lifii 


II 


I , 


I    ■;       i  ! 


3<5o 


Psychology. 


conscious- 


to  an  end  without  banishing  its  object  fn 
ness.*  It  is  for  this  reason,  that,  in  the  former  case,  I 
am  snid  to  "  dwell  upon  "  the  object,  to  "  linger  over  " 
it,  to  "  take  pleasure  in  "  it,  such  phrases  being  often 
used  as  synonymous  with  liking  or  love.  On  the  other 
hand,  dislike  or  hatred  is  often  expressed  by  such  terms 
as  aversion  and  revulsion;  its  object  is  desrribed  as 
repulsive,— as  one  that  we  cannot  "  brook,"  t  that  we 
can  "take  no  pleasure  in,"  that  we  are  "displeased 
with,"— as  one  that  we  cannot  "  bear,"  \  that  we  cannot 
"  bear  the  sight  of,"  that  we  "  cannot  away  with." 

The  object  of  a  feeling  must  here  be  understood  in 
its  widest  sense.  Frequently  of  course,— perhaps  most 
frequently,— it  is  the  natural  cause  of  a  feeling,  that  is, 
the  phenomenon  which,  by  its  natural  pro[)erties,  is 
adapted  to  produce  the  feeling.  Thus  a  sensible  body 
produces  with  a  healthy  constitution  its  appropriate 
sensation ;  the  death  of  a  friend  naturally  awakens 
sorrow ;  the  good  opinion  of  another  gives  us  joy.  In 
other  cases,  however,  an  object  becomes  associated 
with  a  feeling  by  a  mere  accident ;  and  its  subsequent 
power  to  excite  the  feeling  depends,  not  on  its  intrinsic 
properties,  but  merely  on  its  accidental  association. 
Only  by  bearing  this  in  mind  can  we  explain  the  fact, 


Amor  nihil  aliud  est,  qnam  laetitia  concomitante  idea  causae 
externae  ;  et  odium  nihil  aliud,  quam  tristitia  concomitante  idea 
causae  externae.  Videmus  deinde  quod  ille,  qui  amat,  necessario 
conatur  rem,  quam  amat,  praesentem  habere,  et  conservare  ;  et 
contra,  qui  odit,  rem,  quam  odio  habet,  amovere  et  desiruere 
conatur.  (Spinoza,  Elhica,  iii.,  13,  Scholium), 
t  Anglo-Saxon  brucan,  enjoy. 

:  Suffer,  endure,  tolerate,  as  well  as  the  Old  English  and  Scotch 
'.hoUf  are  also  employ  ed. 


Feelings  Onginating  ,„  Association.       36, 

that  the  most  unreasonable  hatreds  are  often  formed  for 
P  sons  ,„.r,„sicany  loveable,  while  love  clings  aTttt 
w,  h  .rag,c  pathos  to  those  who  have  done  evcryth  1^^ 
which  love  is  commonly  repelled      Fnr .!,«  ^  ^ 

any  paltry  article,  like  man'y      Lpfake  'hrr-  7""" 
cally  of  trivial  value  in  relafion  to  p  easure  or  n  "" 

speakable  gladness,  or  a  sorrow 

"  Whose  muffled  motions  blindly  drown 
The  bases  of  the  life  in  tears." 

It  is  evident,  therefore,  this  description  includes  a  ran.e 
of  emotions  second  to  none  either  in  their  va  iety  or  fn 
the  r  importance  as  factors  of  human  life  ^ 


§  \.— Feelings  for  External  Nature. 
All  the  phenomena  of  the  external  world,  oreanic  an^ 

ana  degrees  of  fondness  and  revulsion,  according  to  the 
predommence  of  pleasure  or  pain  in  the  imnre  si„n! 
hey  produce  on  our  consciousness.  Occasio  ahy  a  so 
they  awaken  that  mingled  state  of  feelin.  i„  tlh 
delight  and  aversion  strangely  alternate.  VarL  e  „ 
the  form  of  these  feelings  may  be  determined  by  L" 
definite  objects,  on  the  one  hand,  or,  on  the  othe  1 
more  or  less  indefinite  groups  of  objects  '    ^ 

(^)  The  definite  object  of  a  liking  or  dislike  may  be 
an  ammal,  a  plant,  or  any  inanimate  thing;  and  the 
feehng  for  tt  may  be  based  either  on  the  \kToZ 


\   H 


!M 


Ij 


I': 


k 


it...  :; 


3<52 


Psychology. 


^^ 


11 


intrinsic    properties    on   our    sensibility,    or  on    some 
extrinsic  association.      We  need  not  dwell  again  on  the 
fact,    that   any   object    may,    by   the   merest    accident, 
become  hnked  in  our  consciousness  with  agreeable  or 
disagreeable   feelings.       It   is   well    knosvn,    that    many 
ennoblmg   sentiments,    as   well   as   same   of  the   most 
whmisical  infatuations  of  human  life,  have  their  origin  in 
this  cause.      But  in  the  evolution  of  our   feelings  for 
nature  we  shall  discover  the  same  tendency  which  may 
be  traced  in  the  general  evolution  of  mind,— the  tendency 
to  liberate   our   emotional  life  from  subjection  to  the 
merely  natural  effects  of  association,  to  raise  it  into  the 
free  control  of  reason. 

Consequently,   the   most   interesting   feelings  of  this 
class   are    probably  those   which    are^  due   to   intrinsic 
properties  in  the  object  of  love  or  aversion.    The  special 
interest,  centring  on  such  emotions,  consists  in  the  fact 
that  they  enter   into  the    feelings   of  the    beauty    and 
ugliness,  with  which  we  invest  natural  objects.      'I'hese 
feelings  must  be  considered  again;  but  at  present  it  may 
be   mentioned  that    some  writers    have   ascribed    them 
entirely  to  association.    There  is  at  least  this  inadequacy 
m  such  a  theory,  that  it  overlooks  the  intrinsic  jileasant- 
ness  of  the  sensation.^,  especially  of  sight  and  hearing 
which  beautiful  objects  are  adapted  to  produce       The 
primrose    may  to  many  be   "a    primrose  and    nothing 
more;"  but  it  /V  a  primrose,— an  object  endowed  with 
the  property  of   producing  certain   sensations  in  every 
human  sensibility. 

At  the  same  time  there  is  this  of  truth  in  the  theory 
that  the  agreeableness  of  a  beautiful  object  is  not  to  be 
found,  solely  or  even  mainly,  in  the  pleasant  sensations 
which  it  IS  intrinsically  qualified  to  produce.  The  very 
fact,  that  to  the  uncultured  mind  the  primrose  is  simply 


Feelings  Originating  in  Association.        363 

a  primrose  and  noihing  more,  implies  that,  while  it 
produces  the  natural  sensations  of  a  primrose  i.Ti  ,0 
open  up  the  world  of  thought  and  sentiment,  ;ith  which 
■t  can  become  associated  by  culture.  Without,  there- 
fore, foreclosmg  further  inquiry  into  the  feel  ngs  o, 
beauty,  „  ,s  ev.dent  that  these  must  draw  largely 'from 
the  assocatmns  which  mental  culture  forms  Th^ 
cone  uston  is  confirmed  by  the  most  hurried  reflection 
on  the  poetry  which  interprets  for  us  the  influe,!^e  of 

"  I?  *"'""  "'=  ""^'""l  "o*"  that  Wows  can  give 
Thuughls  that  do  often  lie  too  deep  for  tears." 

(5)  But  this  feeling  for  nature  takes  a  larger  ranse 
wl^n  ..  attaches  ,0  no  limited  object,  but  eniacrfn 

det  ibe  thr"  :    ''''"°™^""     "  '^  '"-■  "'^'  -  may 
describe  the  sent.ment  excited  by  scenery.      Evidently 

such  a  feelmg  presupposes  a  considerable  development 

tilings  He  notices  an  object  near  his  eyes  or  ch^npH 
■n  Its  hands;  he  catches  any  distinct  or  sL'tl^^g  Zd 
Trouoof  o"b  r'"^  neighbourhood:  but  even  a'limi.ed 
a  ce'o f  a  .o"'^'"^'  "^  ""''^  "P  'he  general  appear- 
He  rell  s  a  ,  "  "''  ''^""'^  "'"  ^PP-^ension. 

entire  view   of   a   garden   or  a    field,   or  the   nearest 
surround  ngs  of  home-  an,1  h^  nearest 

al.ilifv  ,„  .      ?      .'  "^  '"^''  never  attain  ihe 

2JJ     T   "  '"'   '"'^"^""^'   °'-  "^-no'ional    results 
e  vast  outline  and  variegated  colour  and  innumetab le 
subordinate  features  of  an  extensive  landscape 


ill 


364 


Psychology, 


\\\ 


It  need   scarcely   be  said   that   the   pleasantness  or 
unpleasantness  of  a  scene  is  sometimes  purely  extrinsic 
The  dominating  mood  of  the  soul  at  the  moment  when 
a  scene  is  viewed  mav  overpower  the  most  pronounced 
natural  adaptation  t)  give  pleasure  or  pain.      Innumer- 
able Illustrations  of  this  are  to  be  found  in  the  love-songs 
of  all  literature.     Drawing  their  imagery  mainly  from 
nature,  these  lyrics  give  an  infinite  variety  of  expression 
to  the  psychological  fact,   that  the  cheerful  or  gloomy 
aspect  of  the   external  world  depends   mainly   on  the 
mood  of  the  ruling  passion.      Through  all  their  changes 
runs  the  general  strain, — 

"  Except  I  be  by  Silvia  in  the  night. 
There  is  no  music  in  the  nightingale." 

It  is  thus  that  the  most  charming  landscape  may  become 
to  the  sorrowful  spirit  invested  in  a  gloom  which  it  will 
wear  throughout   life,    while  it  requires   little   inherent 
attractiveness  about   the  scenery  of  a  happy  home  to 
make  it  capable  of  awakening  a  deeper  and  more  varied 
joy   than    any    other   part   of    the   world.      Even   the 
disinterested  enjoyment  of  beautiful  scenery  is  closely 
dependent  on  the  pleasantness  of  the  circumstances  in 
which  a  scene  is  visited  ;  and  the  great  extension  of  this 
emotion   m   very   recent   times   is   probably   due   in  a 
considerable  measure   to  the  facilities   for  comfortable 
travelling  in  modern  railway-coaches  and  steamers  and 
luxurious  hotels. 

But  the  development  of  the  emotional  life,  as  of  the 
mtellectual,  is  essentially  an  elevation  above  the  tyranny 
of  merely  natural  influences,-of  temporal  and  spatial 
associations.  Consequently  the  expansion  of  our  love 
as  well  as  of  our  hatred,  for  natural  scenes  is  continually 
raising  us  out  of  merely  natural  into  rational  feeling     It 


11 


m 


Feelings  Ongtnatiug  in  Association.       565 

is  thus  that  the  cultivated  emotional  nature  refuses  evef 
more  and  more  to  be  subjugated  by  selfish  or  restricted 
associations  which  are  meaningless  for  men  in  general ; 
and,    while   not   ignoring   the    natural   power   of    such 
associations,  seeks  its  enjoyment  rather  in  those  that  are 
of  universal  interest  to  intelligent  beings.     As  it  grows, 
therefore,  from  the  intellectual  and  emotional  grasp  of 
the  little  nook  to  that  of  the  vast  landscape  opening  from 
a  mountaintop,  p  >  it  may  expand  into  what  has  been  not 
inapi)ropriately  called  "cosmic  emotion,"— an  emotion 
which,   though  not  exhausting  the  religious  sentiment, 
yet  forms  not  its  least  noble  factor  in  the  higher  order  of 
minds.     The  poetry  of  the  Hebrews  shows  at  what  an 
early  period  man  had  learnt  to  look  with  devout  feeling 
on  the  sublimer  phenomena  of  nature;*  and  the  larger 
insight  into  the  vastness  of  the  universe,  which  is  a  chief 
result  of  modern  science,  has  surely  not  weakened  this 
feeling.     "  When  I  gazed  into  these  stars,  have  thr-  not 
looked  down  on  me  as  if  with  pity,  from  their  serene 
spaces,  like  eyes  glistening  with  heavenly  tears  over  the 
little  lot  of  man  1     Thousands  of  human  generations,  all 
as  noisy  as  our  own,  have  been  swallowed  up  of  time, 
and  there  remains  no  wreck  of  them  any   more  j  and 
Arcturus  and  Orion  and  Sirius  and  the  Pleiades  are  still 
shining  in  their  courses,  clear  and  young,  as  when  the 
8hepherd  first  noted  them  in  the  plains  of  Shinar."t 

In  the  same  way  the  dislike,  which  is  limited  at  fust 
to  single  objects  or  scenes  that  are  intrinsic  .liy  or 
extrinsically  painful,  may  expand  into  a  pessimistic 
emotion  in  view  of  the  universe  ;  and  to  such  a  mood 


* 
civ. 


Compare  especially  Job  ix.,  6-9;  Psalms  viii.,  xix.,  1-6,  and 
t  Carlyle's  Sartor  Rtsarttis,  Book  ii.,  Chapter  8. 


\\\ 


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IMAGE  EVAlUATrON 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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1.6 


—      A"       


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366 


the  stars 
may  become 


Psychology. 
no  longer  "glistening  with  heavenly  tears,' 


"  Tyrants  in  their  iron  skies. 
Innumerable,  pitiless,  passionless  eyes 
Cold  fires,  but  with  power  to  burn  and  brand 
ills  nothingness  into  man/" 


M» 


§  2.— Feelings  for  Self. 
Like  external  nature  and  other   human   beings    we 
ou.e  ves  are  adapted  to  excite  agreeable  and  difa^re"! 
able  feelmgs  m  our  own  consciousness;  and  this  power 
must  he  ascrtbed  to  all  the  varied  features  of  ou    namr! 
external    and    internal.       Not    only    our    permanem 

and  actions  our  personal  appearance,  our  dress  and 
even  the  estimate  taken  of  ns  by  others,  are  al  lpab,e 
of  exctfng  varied  states  of  emotion.  Here  agaTthe 
evolution  of  feeling  is  in  che  direction  already  indica.  d 
from  the  tyranny  of  restricted  influences  to  deSt t 
the  sources  of  enjoyment  that  are  universal 

The  general  form  of  these  self-regarding  emotion,  is 
on     e  one  hand,  self-complacency  in  the  contempla  i  n' 
of  annhing  about  ourselves   that  is  calculated  to  rive 
P  easure,    on   the  other   hand,   a    dissatisfaction    w  h 
ourselves  on  account  of  anything  that  is  fitted  to  produce 
P-n.      It  IS  not  of  course  necessary  that  the  feafu.e 
causing  pleasure  or  pain,  should  be  really  attached  to  u!' 
t  need  only  be  before  the  consciousness,  whe  her  as  a 
k.  own  fact  or  as  an  imagined  fiction  ;  and  therefore  Lt 
a  few  forms  of  self-gratulation,  as  well  as  of  selRorture 
are^based  on  nothing  „ore  substantial  tha.  the  Jl^lr:; 

•  Tennyson's  Maud,  xviii.,  4. 


Feelings  Originati.-g  in  Association.      36; 

resnerf    .h,,  .,u  °  S™"  '"'»  '''a'  self- 

whch  io™,  "  ""'"•"  '""'  f-"-g  of  "honour," 

In  like  manner  dissatisfaction  with  oneself  tends  ever 

ThThTs  feu""  r-'^  """'"''  '»  '"^  ^•^-'^  'f  P"- 
Which  ,s  fel,  on  doing  wrong,  and  to  form  therefore  the 

distinctively  moral  sentiment  known  as  r.norsJ 

d.  agreeable    impressions  as   originate  other  forms  of 

^ssihr^rieVtreritrr"  '"^  -'->  - 

cause.;  fh»  ^i  uf  ^  circumstance  which 

exp  at   he  ^"T       '  ™P''^^'°"-     T'-i^  ^""Wes  us  ,0 

shal?   nd   rfr  '"  "'°"«"  ^""^  '-g-ge  between 
Shame  and   a   feeling  so   different   as    modesty      Anv 

unusual    exposure    before    others,    such    as   even  Ihe 

rrerr:h:k'[r'^r' '  -'^  '^  p^""---  ■"-"■' 

natures,  a  shock  like  that  which  is  due  to  the  real  or 
fancied  inspection  by  others  of  something  unwo  th!  in 

con'stiWe;':  """''""''  ^'^""^'"^  f--  -'•  »P°su  e 
conslitu  es  the  essential  character  of  modesty.. 

lovl  of  " ee"'  °Vv  ■"'  '°"""'^  "^^"  '"-  -'h  '^e 

the  oMer  ?  .  1  '"'°"°"  "'^^  '^8"<''=d  ^y  many  of 

he  older    sychologists  as  an  instinctive  form  of  hunnn 

sensibility ;  but  it  requires  no  ve.y  skilful  analysi    to  find 


an  unusual  discharg         bl  1 'n  ZT  "";'  °'  '"=  ''°''  -'-"8 

i.  diffuses  itsdf  over  a  krg"  surfa  e  If  rh'^'  ""'  "'  ''"""  '"'" 

do  not  dress  so  co™pIe.ef;as        i  e/ ^eu  7^7"' '""  "'^ 
Emclims,  Chapter  xiii.).  (^^/'m«„  „/  a, 


m  ,i 


368 


Psychology. 


in  association  with  the  good  opinion  of  others  many 
pleasantnesses  which  make  the  desire  of  esteem 
intelligible,  as  well  as  the  dislike  of  reproach. 

In  some  minds  this  desire  grows  to  remarkable 
intensity.  All  the  great  movements  of  history,— 
military,  political,  ecclesiastical  literary,— bring  nut  men 
m  whom  the  love  of  fame  is  a  strong  passion.  Though 
ethically  not  the  highest  principle  of  action,  it  becomes 
valuable  as  an  aid  to  more  purely  ethical  motives  in 
that  happy  coincidence  when  fame  points  in  the  direction 
of  duty. 

*'  Not  once  or  twice  in  our  fair  island-story 
The  paih  of  July  was  the  way  to  glory."* 

In  truth,  the  love  of  merited  praise  acts  as  a  not  incon- 
siderable stimulus  in  the  better  class  of  minds;  and 
insensibility  to  the  esteem  of  others  is  an  evidence 
either  of  extraordinary  elevation  or  of  equally  extra- 
ordinary degradation.  With  truth,  therefore,  Mihon 
may  3peak  of  fame  as  "the  last  infirmity  cf  noble  mind." 
An  aspiration,  having  its  root  in  the  love  of  esteem, 
enters  into  the  religious  consciousness  in  the  form  of  a 
desire  io  please  God,  and  win  H'xs  favour.  It  is  such  a 
serene  aspiration  that  Milton  has  in  view  in  that  glorious 
passage  of  Ljcidas,  from  which  a  familiar  phrase  has  just 
been  cited, — 

"  Fame  is  no  plant  that  grows  on  mortal  soil, 
Nor  in  the  glistering  foil 
Set  off  to  the  world,  nor  in  broad  humour  lies. 
But  lives  and  spreads  aloft  by  those  pure  eyes 
And  perfect  judgment  of  all  seeing  Jove." 


•  Tennyson's  Odt  «n  the  Death  qf  miHn^ton, 


Feelings  Originating  in  Association.       369 

There  are  two  remarkable  evidences  of 'he  strength  of 
this  desire  in  human  hfe  :  one  is  the  desire  of  an  esteem 
which  we  can  never  enjoy ;  the  other,  the  desire  of  an 
esteem  which  we  do  not  deserve. 

I.  The  lo-,e  of  posthumous  fame  cannot,   from  the 
necessities  of  life,  be  a  prominent  feeling  in  the  human 
I     mmd  ;  but  it  is  by  no  means  an  unknown  experience  for 
I    men  to  find  pleasure  in  the  imagined  praises  of  posterity 
Indeed,  some  writers  of  the  present  day  maintain  that  a 
similar  feeling,-the  feeling  of  satisfaction  at  anticipating 
in  fancy  the  beneficent  results  of  our  influence  on  pos- 
terity,—may  take  the  place,  as  a  motive  in  human  life, 
of  the  Christian  faiih  in  immortality. 

a.  But  it  is  perhaps  a  more   striking   proof  ol   the 
strength  of  the  craving  for  esteem,  that,  when  men  are 
unable  to  secure  it  by  desert,  they  are  eager  to  win  it  by 
any  means,  rather  than  lose  the  gratification  it  affords. 
This   eagerness   appears  in  two  forms.      It   may  be  a 
desire  to  get  esteem  for  things  that  are  not  estimable,  as 
implying  no  merit  on  our  part.     Such  is  ths  vanity  of 
personal  appearance,  of  family  connection,  of  dress  and 
other  external  displays  of  wealth.     Or,  again,  this  desire 
may  seek  esteem  for  qualities  which  are  estimable,  but 
which  we  do  not  possess.      Such  are  the  intellectual 
vanity  of  the  ignoramus,  and  the  moral  vanity  of  the 
hypocrite. 

All  the  self-regarding  emotions  imply  the  presence  in 
consciousness  of  an  ideal  by  which  we  judge  ourselves, 
whether  this  be  the  good  opinion  of  others,  or  some 
abstract  standard  of  goodness.  All  men  are  apt  to  have 
forced  on  them  the  contrast  between  this  ideal  and  their 
actual  attainments  ;  and  the  feeling  of  this  contrast  is 
humility. 


t 


370 


Psychology. 


R  ~ 


§  %'— Feelings  for  Others, 

The  largest  and  most  varied  class  of  our  likings  and 
dislikes  are  those  which  relate  to  other  persons.  To 
these  the  term  affection  has  been  restricted  by  many  of 
the  older  writers,  and  a  distinction  drawn  between 
affections  that  are  benevolent  and  those  that  are  male- 
volent. In  the  ordinary  use  of  language  affection  for  a 
person  is  understood  to  mean  benevolent  feeling. 

There  is  no  class  of  feelings  where  the  complications 
of  our  emotional  life  appear  so  intricate,  and  baffle  so 
completely  all  attempts  at  an  exhaustive  analysis,  even 
by  the  most  cautious  and  laborious  science.      Literary 
art,  using  as  its  favourite  material  the  interests  of  human 
life,  and  obliged  to  represent  these  in  all  their  concrete 
variations,  .s  more  successful  in  giving  descriptions,  and 
perhaps   even   analyses,  of  the  affections  than  can  be 
drawn  by  the  abstractions  of  science.     It  is  true,  that 
the  general  source  of  affections  is  not  hard  to  trace.     It 
is  to  be  found  in  the  fact,  that  pleasure  and  pain  can  be 
derived,    not    only    from    external    nature    and    from 
ourselves,    but   also    from    other    persons.       The   vast 
variety,  however,  of  the  circumstances  on  which  affection 
depends,  and  the  complexity  of  their  endless  combina- 
tions,    ace  their  emotional  effects  altogether  beyond  the 
range  of  the  most  skilful  analysis.     We  may  enumerate 
facts  both  in  the  inner  and  outer  life  of  men,  by  which 
our  feelings  are  excited  or  modified.      We  may  remind 
ourselves,   that  even  circumstances,   like  rank,   wealth, 
nationality,  party-connection,  and  other  social  relation' 
ships,    wholly   intrinsic    to   an    individual,    may    alter 
entirely  our  affection  for  him  ;  that  we  receive  some  of 
our  most  powerful  influences  from  external  features  like 
beauty  or  ugliness  of  figure,   of  manner,   or  of  dress 


!  L 

I!  PS 


Feelings  Originating  in  Association.       371 

itsplf;  that,  in  instances  of  rarer  culture,  we  seek  our 
emot10n.1l  stimulants  mainly  in  the  intellectual  or  moral 
character  and  achievements  of  others.      We  may  also 
keep  in  view  the  fact,  that  some  of  the  most  passionate 
affections  are  based  on  no  more  solid  ground  than  mere 
fancies.     But  were  a  complete  enumeration  of  the  causes 
of  emotion  possible,  it  would  still  be  necessary  to  keep 
m  mmd,  that  their  influence  is  greatly  modified  by  each 
individual's   general   susceptibility   and    by   its   varying 
moods.     The  truth  is,  that   the  multitudinous  aspects 
which  a  human  being  may  present  to  the  mind,  and  the 
multitudinous  modes  in  which  these  may  affect  us,  far 
surpass  m  number  and  variety  the  influences  exerted  by 
any   object    in   nature;    for   while    man   is   a    natural 
product,  he  is  something  infinitely  more.     The  result  is 
that  he  is  capable  of  awakening  all  the  emotions  which 
are  due  to  natural  objects,  with  many  others  of  a  more 
subtle  character  that  are  peculiar  to  himself. 

Among  the  influences  which  may  be  specially  noticed 
as  giving  a  tinge  to  our  affections,  prominence  should  be 
given  to  the  feelings  of  others,  so  far,  of  course,  as  these 
can  be  read  in  their  outward  manifestations.      Here  the 
analysis  of  psychologists  and  moralists  has  been  singu- 
larly niiperfect,  when  contrasted  with  the  achievements 
of  dramatic  skill  in  the  literature  of  history  and  fiction 
It  has  been  too  often  assumed  that  the  feelings  of  others 
excite  always  kindred  f -dings  in  ourselves,   that  their 
pleasure  pleases,  and  that  their  pain  pains  us.     This  is 
an  amiable  assumption,  but  the  darker  phases  01  human 
hfe  forbid  us  to  regard  it  as  true.     Both  the  pleasures 
and  the  pains  of  others  exert  a  complex  emotional  effect 
Even  If  we  set  aside  obscurer  feelings,  such  as  wonder' 
novelty,  fear,  contempt,  which  often  impart  a  peculiar 
shade  to  our  affections,  it  still  remains  an  important  fact 


11 


372 


Psychology. 


M 


that  fellow-feeling  is  not  the  only  emotional  state  excited 
by  the  pleasures  and  pains  of  others.  Along  with  this 
sympathetic  effect  there  is  another  which  by  contrast 
may  be  called  antipathetic.  Before  wc  proceed  further, 
therefore,  this  subject  demands  a  careful  investigation. 

I.     We  shall  take  first  the  sympathetic  effect.      In  its 
generality  this  emotional  phenomenon  is  most  unequivo- 
cally expressed  by  the  t^xm  felwiv-feellng.     The  needs  of 
human  life  make  fellow-feeling  with  the  sufferings  of  one 
another   by   far   the   more   important   exercise   of  this 
emotion.     This  circumstance  explains  the  fact  in  Ian- 
guage,   that,   while   we   have  several   terms   to   express 
fellow-feeling  with  pain,  there  is  none  restricted  to  the 
specific  expression  of  fellow-feeling  with  pleasure.     On 
the  one  hand,  there  are  such  terms  as  pity,  commiseration, 
compassion,  condolence;  and  even  sympathy  itself  is  most 
frequently   employed    with    the   same   limitation.       On 
the  other  hand,  words,  like  congratulation,  complacency, 
complaisance,    which  signify   literally   fellow-feeling   with 
pleasure,  have  all  received  a  somewhat  different  meaning. 
Of  fellow-feeling  in  its  widest  sense  the  source  is  the 
same  as  that  of  imitation.*     Both  imply  the  reproduc- 
tion by  ourselves  of  what  is  apprehended  outside  of 
ourselves.     Of  this  imitative  or   sympathetic   tendency 
an  instinctive  basis  is  perhaps  to  be  found  in  an  un- 
conscious agency  of  the  nervous  system.      We  do  not 
allude  to  those  instances,  in  which  one  member  is  said 
to  sympathise  with  another   in  the  same  organism,   as 
for  example,  eye  with  eye  or  ear  with  ear;  for  these 
have  no  natural  affinity  with  the  phenomena  of  sympathy 


In  common  language  sympathy  h  applied  to  the  reproduction 
rather  of  the  feelings  of  others,  imitation  to  the  reproduction  of  theii 
movements.    See  Bain's  Tht  Er.oliom  and  tht  Will,  p.  17a. 


Feelings  Originating  in  Association.        373 

properly  so  called.  But  it  is  a  familiar  fact,  that  the 
sight  of  tears,  the  sound  of  a  sob  or  wail,  tends,  by 
an  automatic  impulse,  to  excite  tears,  sobs  or  wailing  in 
ourselves.  A  yawn  or  a  smile  by  one  person  may  set  a 
whole  company  yawning  or  laughing;  and  you  may  see 
a  crowd  of  gaping  rustics  swaying  their  bodies  in  corres- 
pondence with  the  admired  movements  of  an  acrobat. 
Children  may  even  be  heard  at  times  responding,  in  the 
same  unreflective  way,  to  the  bark  of  a  dog,  the  bleating 
of  a  sheep  or  the  crowing  of  a  cock.  How  far  these 
imitative  or  sympathetic  instincts  are  the  result  of  educa- 
tion in  the  individual  or  in  the  race,  it  is  impossible  to 
say  with  certainty. 

But  these  automatic  movements  do  not  yet  constitute 
fellow-feeling.     To  reproduce  in  our  consciousness  the 
feeling    of    another    person    requires    that   we    should 
apprehend  what  this  feeling  is.      Consequently,  fellow- 
feeling  is  impossible  without  a  certain  act  of  intelligence, 
and  it  is  not  difficult  to  understand  why  the  required  act 
of  intelligence  should  be  associated  with  this  emotional 
acconrjpaniment.     This   will   be   most   clearly   seen    by 
referring   in    the  first   instance   to    the   lower   order   of 
feelings.      When  I  represent  any  sensation,— a  touch,  a 
sound,  or  a  colour,— the  representation  is  evidently  but 
the  revival  of  the  sensation  in  a  fainter  degree.      It  is  a 
well  known  fact  even  that  the  representation  implies  a 
revival  of  the  same  sort  of  nervous  thrill,  by  which  the 
organ  was  stirred  during  the  original  sensation.      In  like 
manner,  when  a  muscular  movement  is  represented,  a 
faint  twitch  is  started  in  the  same  muscular  region  which 
the  original  movement  called  into  play.      Now,  a  large 
number  of  the  pleasures  and  pains  of  others,  with  which 
we  feel  sympathy,  are  sensations;  and  the  sympathy  felt 
is  simply  a  fainter  revival  in  our  own  organism  of  the 


374 


Psychology. 


pleasurable  or  painful  sensations  which  others  are 
conceived  to  feel.  It  is  thus  that  all  men,  even  of 
moderate  sensibility,  on  observing  anoti.er  person  suffer 
a  severe  bodily  injury,  are  apt  to  feel  a  pang  shoot 
through  the  corresponding  pare  of  their  own  bodies;  and 
many  are  unable  to  look  at  serious  wounds  owing  to  their 
vivid  realisation  of  the  pain  endured. 

Apply  all  this  to  pure  emotions.     These  can  be  made 
known   to  us,  of  course,   only  by  their  expression   in 
language  or  by  some  other  form  of  bodily  manifestation. 
It  is  obviously  requisite,  however,  that  the  expression  of 
the  emotion  be  intelligently  interpreted  by  us ;  in  other 
words,  that  we  represent  to  ourselves,  with  some  degree 
of  distinctness,  the  emotion  that  is  expressed.     But  the 
representation  of  an  emotion  is  its  revival  in  our  own 
consciousness;  and,  consequently,  the  intelligent  appre- 
hension of  an  emotion  felt  by  another  person  is  a  fellow- 
feeling  with  him.      This  analysis  is  confirmed   by  the 
fact,  that  in  all  the  lower  grades  of  culture  the  power  of 
sympathy  remains  extremely  rudimentary  and  restricted 
in  its  range,  while  its  expansion  keeps  pace  with  the 
evolution  of  general  intelligence.     It  is  true,  that  human 
life,  especially  among  civilised  communities,  owes  many 
alleviations  of  its  sorrows,  and  much  even  of  the  sweet- 
ness   of    social    intercourse,    to    persons    in    whom   a 
comparatively  limited  intelligence  is  combined  with  a 
remarkable  quickness  of  sympathy.    But  it  will  be  found 
that,  however  limited  the  general  range  of  intelligence  in 
such  persons  may  be,  it  has  been  specially  directed  to 
the  interpretation  of  all  the  familiar  symptoms  of  suffer- 
ing, and  that,  therefore,  in  the  interpretation  of  these,  it 
often  outstrips  intellects  that  have  become  famous  by 
grappling  successfully  with  the  complicated  problems  of 
nature  or  of  political  or  military  affairs.     On  the  other 


Feelings  Originating  in  Association.       375 

hand,   the  dependence  of  sympathy  on  the  intelligent 
apprehension   of    the    feelings   of    others   is   strikingly 
evinced  by  the  fact,  that  the  finest  emotional  nature  may 
at  times  be  seen  exhibiting  an  unpleasant  callousness  in 
presence  of  sufferings  which  it  is  unable  to  understand, 
l^or  the  wider  reaches  of  sympathy  require  that  construc- 
tive activity  of  intelligence  which  places  us  by  imngina- 
tion  in  situations  which  we  have  never  personally  t.icd, 
and  enables  us  to  construct  out  of  the  materials  drawn 
from  our  own  experience  an  ideal  representation  of  the 
real  experience  of  another.     But  this  ideal  construction 
IS  by  no  means  always  ready  to  command;  and  hence 
with  ali  men  sympathy  is  quickest  and  most  intense  in 
the  case  of  those  sufferings  which  are  precisely  similar  to 
their  own,  while  it  becomes  more  sluggish  and  less  vivid 
in  proportion  as  the  circumstances  of  a  sufferer  differ 
from  theirs.     Probably  the  highest  development  of  sym- 
pathy Is  that  which  runs  out  readily  to  meet  emotional 
experiences  which  cannot  at  the  time  be  understood 
which  are  realised  me*  •.'Explicable  sorrows  or  joys! 

II.  We  now  come  )  '  o  iggs  pleasing  effect  of 

an  antipathetic  nature,  ..  to  be  produced  by 

the  feelings  of  others. 

I.  The  pleasures  of  other.  ,ot  ours  ;  and,  though 

this  consideration  may  be  overwhelmed  in  a  generous 
sympathy,  yet  it  may  also  at  times  force  into  ronF-ious- 
ness  the  contrast  between  their  pleasurable  and  our 
pleasureless  condition.  If  this  contrast  is  not  banished 
from  thought,  but  brooded  over,  it  may  give  rise  to  the 
various  forms  of  malicious  feeling  that  come  under  the 
description  of  envy  and  jealousy. 

a.  On  the  other  hand,  \\^^  pains  of  others  are  capable 
of  producing  a  twofold  antipathetic  effect. 

{a)  The  contrast  between  ourselves  and  the  sufferer 


Z7^ 


Psychology. 


iDiiy  excite  a  feeling  of  self-gratulation,  whlc  i  may  even 
rise  to  a  coarse  exultation,  over  our  own  freedom  from 
his  misfortune.  One  of  the  mo^t  common  forms  of  this 
exultation  is  met  with  in  the  ungenerous  reflection  on  a 
competitor's  defeat,  which  often  gives  a  zest  to  the 
triumphs  of  successful  rivalry. 

{b)  Again,  the  sight  of  suffering  has  oflen  a  varied 
pleasurable  effect.  It  may  relieve  the  langour  of  mono- 
tony, it  may  by  its  extraordinary  nature  startle  with  a 
pleasant  surprise;  while  the  contortions  of  the  victim 
exhibit  at  times  that  character  of  oddity,  which  is 
the  source  of  ludicrous  effects.  These  emotional  excite- 
ments are,  in  finer  natures,  generally  supplanted  by  the 
vivi.l  sympat.ieiic  realisation  of  the  suffering  expressed; 
but  to  coarse  or  morbid  natures,  that  feed  on  such 
excitements,  they  bring  a  real,  though  horrid,  pleasure. 
Savage  life  evidently  derives  one  of  its  keenest  zests  from 
the  torture  of  enemies ;  the  scenes  of  the  amphitheatre 
formed  one  of  the  most  fascinating  attractions  to  the 
populace  of  ancient  Rome;  a  child  bursts  into  boisterous 
fun  over  the  wriggles  of  a  mutilated  insect;  and  even  the 
most  refined  nature  betrays  a  faintly  malicious  disposition 
m  the  occasional  pleasure  of  teasing  a  friend. 

It  is  evident  from  all  these  considerations,  that  a  very 
large  factor  of  our  emotional  life  consists  of  the  feelings 
excited  by  our  fellow  men.  A  very  large  proportion  of 
that  pleasurable  excitement,  without  which  human  life 
would  be  intolerably  dull,  is  derived  from  social  inter- 
course. Accordingly,  psychologists  and  moralists  have 
long  recognised  the  love  of  society  as  forming  one  of  the 
most  powerful  feelings  in  the  human  mind.  It  is  true, 
that  in  many  minds,— perhaps  in  all  minds  at  some 
time.-  -there  is  d  love  of  solitude  which  seems  to  con- 
tradict the  theory  that  the  love  of  society  is  an  inh'^rent 


Feelings  Originating  in  Associaf-n.       ^77 

craving  of  human  nature.  But  society  ha5  -ts  diMractions. 
vexations,  fatigues ;  and  to  those  who  have  known  these 
somude  is  a  relief.  Still  the  life  of  the  recluse  is  essci- 
tially  a  sacrifice  of  manifold  pleasures,  and  has  therefore 
been  a  favourite  form  of  ascetic  self-denial  in  nearly  all 
re.igions.  Fellowship  is  one  of  the  most  imperious 
wants  of  man,  and  the  power  of  this  want  is  pathetically 
Illustrated  m  numerous  stories  of  solitary  confinement  or 
enforced  seclusion. 

*•  Cast  on  the  wildest  of  the  Cyclad  isles, 
Where  never  human  loot  had  marked  ihe  shore. 
These  ruffians  left  me  ;  yet  believe  me,  Areas. 
Such  is  the  rooled  love  we  bear  mankind, 
All  ruffians  as  they  were,  i  never  heard 
A  sound  more  diamal  than  thei-  ^  u..  ing  oars."* 

But  our  emotional  relation  to  our  fellow  men  consists 
not  merely  of  this  general  delight  in  their  companionship  • 
It  assumes  the  form  of  specific  affections  for  particular 
persons.  It  is  ;  .ual,  as  already  observed,  to  classify 
these  in  two  great  divisions  as  benevolent  and  malevolent  • 
but  such  a  division  is  apt,  without  exi^lanation,  to  mis' 

•ThomsonV^. >•«,,,.,,,„,„.  „obbes  is  usually  represented  as 
maintaming  that  the  natu.al  state  of  men  is  oneof  unsocial  hostility; 
but  this  doctrine  is  often  inadeciua.ely  understood  as  implyin<.  th.t 
there  is  no  basis  for  social  existence  in  human  nature  Hob  es 
does  recognise  certain  natural  impulses  that  attract  men  to  friendly 

11T,T'  ""'^  ^''  -"^^^  P"^^»^"'  ^han  the  -  three  causes  of 
quarrel,  namely,  competition,  diffidence,  and  glory.  The  only 
fautone  can  find  with  Hobl.es'  doctrine  is  the  ludicrous  ino.n! 
pleteness  in  his  enumeralio.  of  man's  social  impulses.  -The 
passions  thaUncline  men  to  peace."  he  says,  "are  fearofdea.h. 
desire  of  such  things  as  are  necessary  for  commodious  living,  and  a 
hope,  by  their  industry,  to  enjoy  them."  {L,vtuiAan,  ,  ut  i 
Chapter  13).  *  *» 


li^i 


I  i 


378 


Psychology. 


^l; 


represent  the  concrete  realities  of  our  emotional  life. 
I'he  feelings  we  entertain  for  others  are  generally  of  a 
very  mingled,  often  of  a  vacillating,  character  ;  and  now 
it  is  the  benevolent,  now  the  malevolent,  factors  that 
prevail.  Still,  if  we  bear  this  complication  in  mind,  the 
division  affords  a  convenient  guide  for  more  detailed 
examination  of  the  phenomena.  Here  of  course  emotion 
follows  the  usual  course  of  its  development.  It  starts 
with  those  feelings  which  depend  on  purely  natural 
associations,  and  expands  gradually  to  those  which  imply 
an  intelligent  choice.  Consequently,  it  will  be  found 
that  the  affections,  both  benevolent  and  malevolent,  may 
be.subdivided  into  two  main  types,  the  natural  and  the 
rational ;  though  here  again  it  must  be  borne  in  mind, 
that  our  actual  feelings  seldom  belong  to  either  type 
exclusively.* 

(A)  Benevolent  affections  are  the  various  modes,  in 
which  we  find  pleasure  in  other  persons.  They  are 
called  benevolent  obviously  because  they  seek  their 
gratification  in  the  real  or  imagined  wellbeing  of  their 
objects,  though  it  is  an  important  moral  truth  that, 
without  ra'iional  guidance,  these  emotional  impulses 
often  produce  the  very  opposite  effects  to  those  which 
they  seek. 

In  the  very  front  of  the  benevolent  affections  we  come 
upon  one  that  may  be  regarded  as  forming  the  centre 
from  which  social  life,  and  therefore  also  social  feeling, 
radiate.     Sexual  love  is  an  emotion  sui generis^  exhiLiting 


*  This  distinction  was  first  rlrawn  by  Bishop  Butler,  and  has 
been  generally  adopted  by  subsequent  writers,  in  reference  to  the 
malevolent  affections.  See  Butler's  Sermon  on  Resentment.  The 
distinction,  however,  is  obviously  applicable,  with  equal  propriety, 
to  the  benevolent  affections. 


Feelings  On'ginathig  in  Association.      3;9 

the  diaracterislics  both  of  the  natural  and  the  rational 
types.      Psychologists  have  too  generally  treated  it  in 
the  spirit  of  Dr.  Reid,  who  declares  that  "it  is  fitter  to 
be  sung  than  said,"  and  accordingly  leaves  it  "■  to  those 
who  have  slept  on  the  two-topped  Parnassus."*     It  is 
true,  that  this  emotion  has  formed  a  favourite  material 
of  poetry;  and  the  reason  is  probably  to  be  found  in 
the    fact,    that    it    is    distinguished    by    an    unusual 
combination  of  great  intensity  with  great  ideal  power. 
Still   this    should    render    it   only   a   more    interesting 
subject  of  scientific   analysis.     The   complete  analysis 
of  the  emotion  is,  indeed,   impossible.     The  truth'  is, 
that  all  the  influences,  by  which  one  human  being  is 
capable  of  exciting  amiable  sentiment  in   another,  are 
apt  to  be  distilled  into  a  finer  essence  of  concentrated 
power  in  passing  through  the  alembic  of  the  sexual 
nature.     Consequently  this   emotion  may  be  modified 
into    a    thousand    different    forms    according    to    the 
chkacter    of   the    influences    by   which    it    has   been 
generated;  and  therefore  literary  art,   by  its  concrete 
treatment,  is  always  able  to  describe  the  love  of  the 
sexes  with  more  of  the  truth  of  nature  than  can   be 
given  to  the  abstractions  of  science. 

The  peculiar  character  of  this  affection  finds,  of  course, 
its  natural  basis  in  the  diffV:rence  of  sexual  constitution.' 
A  grossly  inadequate  view  of  this  difference  restricts  it 
mainly  to  one  set  of  organ;; ;  but  as  a  true  physiology 
and  a  true  psychology  look  on  no  single  organ,  but 
rather  on  the  whole  organism,  as  being  the  organ  of  mind, 
so  they  compel  us  to  regard  the  whole  organism  as  an 
exponent  of  the  diff'erence  of  sex.  The  more  thoroughly 
this    view    takes    possession'  of   the   mind,   the  more 


% 


t.-l 


•  Rcid  »  IVoikst  p.  564,,  iIamikoa"s  edition. 


m' 


Ml 


380 


Psychology, 


m 


ihorougWy  also  does  sexual  feeling  free  itself  from  a 
mere  animal  appetite,  and  expand  into   that   spiritual 
sentiment  which  forms  at  once  one  of  the  purest  enjoy- 
ments and  one  of  the  purest  moral  influences  of  life.     It 
has  been  maintained  that  this  spiritualisation  of  the  senti- 
ment has  been  the  result  of  mediaeval  chivalry ;  but  this 
is  a  question  which  belongs  rather  to  history  than  to 
psychology.     Whatever  may  have  been  the  history  of 
this  sentiment  in  the  past,  it  must  follow  the  general 
course  of  emotional  evolution  j  and  any  reversion  to  the 
sensuous  restriction  of  the  feeling,  such  as  occasionally 
makes  its  appearance  among  the  eccentricities  of  litera- 
ture, is  not  only  an  anachronism,  but  a  solecism  in  art, 
as  decided  as  if  the  poet  were  to  seek  the  fittest  material 
for  the  artistic  description  of  a  banquet  in  the  animal 
gusto  with  which  the  viands  are  devoured. 

I.  Among  the  other  benevolent  affections,  those  which 
are  founded  on  relationships  of  nature  come  appropriately 
first  under  consideration.  The  characteristic  of  these  is 
determined  by  the  fact,  that  they  arise  from  natural 
associations,  not  from  combinations  of  intelligence.  It  is 
not  any  rational  consideration  that  directs  tiiem  to  their 
objects;  it  is  simply  the  extrinsic  associations  of  space 
and  time.  They  appear,  therefore,  as  blind  instincts,  as 
unreasoning  passions,  that  cling  to  their  objects  without 
any  reflection  up  m  the  intrinsic  character  of  these. 

I.  Of  such  social  instincts  the  type  is  to  be  found  in 
what  is  called,  by  pre-eminence,  natural  affection  {<TTopyri), 
that  is,  affection  between  persons  of  the  same  kindred. 
The  passionate  intensity  of  this  affection  is  mainly  de- 
termined by  the  closeness  of  the  natural  relation,  out  of 
which  it  arises ;  and  consequently  a  mother's  love  has  in 
all  ages  been  regarded  as  among  the  most  irresistible 
instincts  of  nature.     Even  within   the  sphere  of  the 


Feelings  Originating  in  Association.       38 1 

family,  as  intelligence  matures  with  age,  natural  afTeclIon 
is  apt  to  be  modified  by  rational  co:isiderations;  while, 
outside  of  that  sphere,  although  the  natural  relation  may 
still  have  a  powerful  influence  on  the  affections,  these 
receive  their  colour,  in  a  very  large  measure,  from  the 
character  of  their  objects. 

a.  A  natural  affection  is  often  developed  towards  a 
community,  with  which  we  are  connected  by  natural 
causes.  Wherever  social  organisation  exists,  this  senti- 
ment ennobles  human  life;  it  appears  in  the  devotion  of 
the  savage  to  his  tribe,  in  the  attachment  to  a  municipal 
home,  in  the  patriotism  with  which  men  sacrifice  them- 
selves for  a  fatherland.  The  last  fruit  of  nature's  growth 
in  this  direction  is  that  philanthropy,— that  "enthusiasm 
of  humanity,"— in  which  is  attained  an  emotional  reali- 
sation  of  the  natural  relationship  of  all  mankind. 

II.  But  such  a  late  outgrowth  of  natural  affection  can 
scarcely  be  distinguished  from  the  other  form  of  benevo- 
lence ;  for  this  is  but  the  extension  to  persons  who  are 
not  akin  to  us  of  those  affections  which   are  naturally 
excited  towards  our  own  kindred.*     This  expansion  of 
benevolent  feeling,  however,  is  but  a  mode  of  tlie  general 
development  of  mind,  which  frees  itself  from  the  spatial 
and  temporal  associations  of  nature,  rising  into  the  inde- 
pendent combinations  of  thought.     Affection  tends  thus 
to  lose  the  passionate  force  of  an  unreHecting  instinct, 
and  to  be  distinguished  by  the  deliberate  calm  of  intelli- 
gent choice.    This  characteristic  of  the  rational  affections 
is  expressively  embodied  in  the  Latin  verb  dili^^o,  which 


1 


S\ 


IIP 


•i  t 


•  This  seems  indicated  in  the  adjective  kind,  which,  lik^  the 

substantive,  is  from  the  Anglo-Saxon  cawan,  to  beget  (cf.  kindle), 

° '^  "•— «'^  ^a^.Ln^cnu  M^i^^noj,  ana  ihe  Uieek  yevydu. 


33j 


Psycfwlo^, 


i"?  property  limllrd  to  them,  and  whfch  is  suggc3tlve  oi 
the  cognate  ititelligo  and  seligo* 

Like  the  natural  affections,  the  rational  begin  with 
attachments  to  individuals,  and  form  the  friendships  of 
human  life.  But  they,  too,  may  extend  to  societies,  that 
is,  to  societies  which  we  enter  by  voluntary  choice ;  and 
it  is  thus  that  the  sentiment  of  esf>fit  de  coips  is  created. 

It  is  important  to  bear  in  mind,  further,  that  wlien  any 
rational  affection  for  an  individual  or  a  society  has 
existed  some  time  it  originates  numerous  associations 
whit  h  are  apt  to  impart  to  it  some  of  the  passionate 
bh'ndness  of  natural  affection.  'Ihis  explains  why  the 
benevolent  sentiment,  which  actuates  the  members  of  a 
society  in  common,  may  appear  in  relation  to  other 
societies,  not  only  as  a  "generous  rivalry,"  but  also  in  the 
malevolent  form  of  party-si)irit  or  sectarianism. 

(B)  We  are  thus  brought  to  the  second  great  division 
of  the  alfections,— the  malevolent.  The  fundamental  type 
of  these  is  the  emotional  state  named  resentment  This 
term  (originally  resentment)  denotes  etymologieally  a 
feeling  in  return  or  again,  and  was  formerly  applied  to  the 
sentiment  excited  in  return  for  favours  as  well  as  to  that 
excited  by  injuries.  Ahm  the  term  is  restricted  to  the 
latter  feeling,!  and  it  forus  a  very  appropriate  name  for 


•  The  contrast  of  diligo  wiih  amo,  which  expresses  r.ilher  the  in- 
tensity of  natural  afroctiun,  is  finely  brought  out  in  one  of  Cicero's 
letters:  -"L.  Clodiiis  valde  mc  clili-it,  vel,  ul  •'/x^artAccirf/^oi' dicam, 
valde  mcamat"  {AdBiutum,  i.,  i.  Cf.  Ad  I'anul.arcs,  ix.,  14; 
xiii.,  47). 

t  A  similar  restriction  may  be  ti.iced  in  the  history  of  the  word 
retaliation  (Trench's  Study  of  Wonts,  pp.  54-5,  nth  ed.)  Trench 
regards  these  restrictions  of  meaning  as  due  to  a  degradation  from 
the  standard  of  sentin.ent  in  the  good  old  limes.  They  are  evi- 
dently rather  the  result  o(  that  diirerentiation  which  characterise* 
the  growth  of  all  lan^juage. 


o( 


Feelings  Originating  in  Association.        383 

Ihe  rebound  of  our  emotional  nature  against  injury. 
When  this  emotional  reaction  has  fixed  on  its  injurious 
cause,  It  becomes  malevolent  affection. 

It  has  long  been,  and  continues  still  to  be,  a  moot 
question  among  psychologists,  whether  there  is  any  feel- 
ing of  pure  malevolence  in  the  human  mind.*    The  con- 
troversy IS  perhaps  owing  to  a  want  of  distinctness  in 
the  use  of  terms.      What  is  meant  by  pure  malevolence  ? 
As  commonly  used,  the  word  must  be  understood  to 
mean   either  pain   felt  s(,lely  on  account  of  another's 
pleasure,  or  delight  in  another's  pain,  considered  simply 
as  pam.     Now,  the  explanation  of  sympathy  given  above 
implies  that  malevolence  or  antipathy  in  this  sense  would 
mvolve  a  subversion  of  the  very  constitution  of  the  human 
mind.  The  sentiment  of  sympathy  is  merely  the  emotional 
side  of  that  mental  act,  which  on  its  intellectual  side  is 
an  apprehension  of  the  feelings  of  others.     Consequently 
the  conception  of  another's  pain,  purely  as  pain,  is  the 
revival  of  the  pain  in  our  own  consciousness ;  and  a 
delight  in  pain  pure  and  simple  is,  therefore,  out  of  tl  e 
question.!     The  same  remark  applies  to  dissatisfaction 
with  another's  pleasure.      At  the  same  time  it  has  been 
shown  that  the  feelings  of  others  are  accompanied  with 
adjuncts  which  afford  a  sufficient  basis  in  our  nature  for 


Mr.   F.   H.   1  radley.   ,„   I^Hnd  for  July.  ,883.  with  a  reply  by  Dr. 
Jiain  m  the  following  number. 

tEven  Ilobhes.  with  all  the  repulsive  egoism  which  generally 
^hnrac lerises  h.s  psychology  of  the  enmtions.  saw  clearly  this  truth 
After  defining  crudiy  as  "little  sense  of  the  calamity  of  others* 
proceeding  from  security  of  men's  own  fortune."  h.-  adds  —"For 
that  any  one  should  take  pleasure  in  other  mens  harms,  withoul 


I 


1 


384 


Psychology, 


malevolent  antipathy ;  so  that  practically  the  result  is  the 
same  as  if  we  were  capable  of  being  pleased  with  the  pains, 
and  pained  with  the  pleasures  of  others. 

I.     At  its  lowest  stage  mi    volence,  like  benevolence, 
is  excited  by  mere  associations  of  nature  \  it  is  a  purely 
animal  instinct,  a  blind   passion,  like  natural  affection. 
Its  stimulating  cause  may,  therefore,  be  any  accidental 
harm — anything  innocently  offensive — such  as  even  an 
inanimate  object.     Occasionally  in  civilized  life  this  un- 
reasoning outburst  of  resentment  may  be  observed,  as 
when  a  man,  in  instinctive  anger,  kicks  a  stone  against 
which  he  has  madvertently  struck  a  tender  toe.     But  it 
is  in  savage  life,  or  in  situations  like  a  battle  in  which  the 
restraints  of  civilisation  are  snapped  asunder,  that  the  in- 
stinct exhibits  its  most  appalling  power.      Savages  have 
been  seen  tearing  an  arrow  from  their  lacerated  flesh, 
and  biting  it  in  rage.     Commodore  Byron  saw  a  native 
of  Tierra  del  Fuego  snatch  up  in  fury  his  own  child, 
who  had  accidentally  dropped  a  basket  of  eggs,  and  dash 
the  little  fellow  against  the  rocks  with  such  violence  that 
almost  immediately  afterwards  he  died.* 

II.  But  resentment  loses  the  passionate  force  of  a 
natural  instinct,  when  intelligence  is  called  into  play.  It 
then  requires  something  more  to  rouse  it  than  mere 
harm  ;  it  requires  an  intentional  injury,  supposed,  if  not 
real.  The  injury  need  not,  indeed,  be  inflicted  directly 
on  ourselves.  If  borne  by  another,  it  may  by  sympathy 
become  an  injury  to  us,  and  thus  excite  resentment. 
Such  representative  resentment  is  usually  called  indigna- 
tion. 

Resentment,  whether  instinctive  or  rational,  may  be 

*  Lubbock's  Prehistoric  Times,  p.  560.      Other  examples  will  be 
found  in  Tylor's  Primitive  Culttire,  Vol.  i.,  pp.  259-60. 


Feelings  Originating  in  Association.       385 

modified  by  numerous  influences ;  and  thus  it  gives  rise 
to  the  specific  forms  of  malevolent  affection,  by  which 
human  life  is  disturbed.  Like  benevolence,  it  may 
attach  Itself  to  individuals  or  to  communities. 

I.  Among  the  malicious  afifections  for  individuals,  envy 
and  jealousy  are  the  most  common.  Both  originate  in 
the  same  antipathetic  emotion—the  feeling  of  pain  which 
IS  apt  to  be  excited  by  contrasting  the  pleasures  of  others 
with  our  own  want  of  their  pleasures. 

I.  Envy  is  usually  described  as  r.  malevolent  outgrowth 
of  rivalry ;  but  it  may  arise  in  circumstances  in  which 
there  is  no  explicit  competition  with  others.    Still  it  finds 
Its  most  natural  stimulant  in  competitions,  especially  when 
the  object  is  one  of  merely  relative  value.      Wnen  out- 
stripped by  another  in  the  pursuit  of  any  such  object 
we  are  apt  to  feel  hurt  by  his  success ;  and  envy,  in  so 
far  as  it  implies  malevolence,  is  the  resentful  passion  thus 
excited.     This  analysis  is  confirmed  by  the  fact,  that  th« 
word  envy  is  often  used  without  malevolent  implications 
but  always  with  reference  to  a  pleasure  which  we  are  not 
enjoying  ourselves,  as  when  one  friend  says  to  another 
"  I  envy  you  your  privileges,"  etc.  ' 

In  connection  with  this  subject  a  distinction  has  been 
drawn  between  objects  of  pursuit  which  are  of  absolute 
value,  such  as  intelligence  or  virtue,  and  those  which  are 
of  relative  value— which  are  of  value  to  any  one  merely 
in  comparison,  or  rather  in  contrast,  with  the  degree  in 
which  they  are  possessed  by  others.     The  vulgar  cravin- 
for   wealth,   fine  clothing,   splendid   equipages,   palatial 
residences,  popular  applause,  is  largely  a  mere  wish  to 
have  something  more  or  better  than  one's  neighbours  • 
and  there  is  often  all  the  annoyance  of  baffled  endeavour 
when  the  object  has  been  gained  by  so  many  as  to  be  no 
longer  distinctive.      Pursuits  of  the  former  class  are 

A  3 


SS6 


Psychohgj. 


spoken  of  as  generous,  because  in  them  the  successful 
enjoy  iheir  success  only  the  more,  the  more  that  others 
partake  of  the  same  boon.  It  is  in  pursuits  of  the  latter 
class  that  envy  naturally  arises.* 

2.  Jealousy  arises  similarly  under  the  influence  of  an 
afl-ection  which  can  be  gratified  only  by  its  return. 
When  another  wins  the  love  which  we  have  <.xpected,  we 
feel  hurt;  and  our  resentment  of  this  injury  constitutes 
jealousy.  This  passion  may  be  felt  in  the  case  of  any 
affection.  Thus  it  may  form  a  just  resentment  in  the 
case  of  a  parent,  from  whom  a  child's  love  has  been  with- 
drawn  by  some  third  person,  t  But  jealousy  is  most 
common  and  most  powerful  in  connection  with  sexual 
love,  partly  because  of  the  intensity  of  this  affection, 
partly  because  with  it,  more  than  with  any,  the  success 
of  one  rival  inevitably  involves  the  defeat  of  another,  and 
a  defeat  often  entailing  the  keenest  emotional  anguish  of 
which  the  human  mind  is  susceptible. 

3.  The  malevolent  affections  of  envy  and  jealousy  are 
effects  of  failure  in  a  competition  j  but  success  often 
brmgs  with  it  a  kind  of  malice  as  well— the  malicious 
pleasure  of  feeling  our  success  enhanced  by  relief  against 
the  failure  of  a  beaten  rival.  It  is  a  startling  fact,  that 
not  a  few  divines,  in  describing  the  joys  of  heaven,  have 
attributed  to  the  blessed  the  gratification  of  gazing  into 


•This  distinction  is  finely  illustrated  by  Ferguson,  Principles  of 
Motalami  Poliiii-al  Stience,  n.,  i^j. 

tXenophon  draws  a  parallel  between  marital  and  paternal 
jealousy,  in  Cy^op.,  iii.,  i.  Possibly  it  was  in  part  to  the  paternal 
jealousy  of  Anytus,  that  Socrates  owed  his  death.  In  the  strong 
Eastern  imagery  0/  the  Old  Testament,  God  is  described  as  jealous 
when  His  creatures  give  to  other  objects  the  love  which  He  alone 
may  claim. 


Feelings  Originating  in  Association,       -^^y 

the  nether  world,  and  glorying  that  they  have  escaped 
the  sufferings  of  the  damned.  ^ 


<4 


Tantaene  animis  coelestibus  irae?* 


n.  Strangely  enough,  the  malevolent  passions,  by 
wh.ch  communmes  are  separated,  have  their  origin  in 
.he  benevolent  affections,  by  which  each  community  is 

Sof IL  H^ff  ""''  '"'T'"""^"' '''  ""^  --'^  o"  '■ 

selfishness,  wh.ch  may  be  as  baneful  in  its  effects  as  the 

sTZ![l ''"""""'''  "'  '"''""""''•      "  i'  "-"^  '"o'  "" 
sectional  loves  are  perpetually  generating  sectional  hatreds 

among  men.    The  malicious  enmities  of  political  parties 

.nd  of  rel,g,ous  sects,  "  the  feud  of  rich  and  poor,"  the 

hosfle  feehngs  of  different  nations,  or  even  of  different 

provmces  and  municipalities  in  the  same  nation,  are  in- 

itr'  A    T'T'^  '""'^"^  «^°*'"8  °"'  "f  restricted 
loves     As  the  relations  of  a  man  to  the  other  sex  may 

sometimes  be  peculiarly  unfortunate,  it  is  not  unintellig 
ible  that  misogyny  should  be  an  occasional  phenomenon 
among  human  feelings.     Even  misanthropy  is  not  Lex" 
Plicable     When  a  man  has  been  signally  unfortunareTn 
the  world  when  his  misfortunes  have  been  caused  b^  th" 
villany  of  others,  and  solaced  by  no  generous  help  the 
emotional  nature  may  receive  such  a  twist,  as  to  ma'ke  il 
insensible  to  the    pleasantness   of   human    charae'e 
sensible  oniy  to  its  irritations,  while  the  judgment  may  be 
so  warped  as  to  create  a  thousand  imaginary  causes  of 
.miation,  where  there  are  none  in  reality  to  gratify  the 
distorted  sensibility.  ^      ' 

It  seems  necessary  to  add  one  word  on  revenge. 
Hha  IS  understood  by  this  term  is  an  action  rather  tk-in 
°  f-ehng ;  ,t  is  a„  action  done  under  the  imnul. 


4  . 


a 


ISP    nt 


388 


Psychology, 


malevolent  passion,  not  under  the  guidance  of  reason. 
The  highest  morality,  therefore,  reprobates  revenge;  but 
it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  no  action,  done  under 
the  mere  impulses  of  nature,  is  moral,  and  that  any 
emotion,  even  benevolence,  may  lead  to  disastrous  results. 
It  allowed  to  control  our  conduct  without  rational  direc 


too. 


Feelings  Originating  in  Com/,. 


arixoh. 


389 


CHAPTER    III. 


FEELINGS  ORIGINATING  IN  COMPARISON. 

A  S  in  the  class  of  feeling,,  ,0  „hich  the  previous 
-TV.  chapter  ,s  devoted,  the  prominent  fact  i,  °he 
assocafon  of  pleasures  and  pain,"  with  their  obje  ,s  or 
causes,  so  .n  those,  to  which  we  now  proceed,  the  o  he 
mental  process,  comparison,  is  the  determining  fea"  re 
■n  other  words,  they  are  the  emotions  that  arfse  from  a 
companson  of  their  objects  with  other  objects.  AsThis 
nvolves  the  relation  of  objects  in  consciousness   the 

Th     Sr  ^"""°"  ''•■'^^  '^^"  called/«A>„.  o/r.laLty. 
This  name  may  appropriately  embrace  a  larger  ranee  of 
emottons  than  it  is  sometimes  used  to  denote    ttfs  t 
fact,  applicable  to  all  emotions  tlK.t  arise  from  a'n  oWe  " 
being  thought  under  any  relation.     AH  objects  indeed 
must  be  known  under  relations,  but  the  rS  "of  ,  ' 
object  need   not    be    the    obtrusive    phenomenon  Z 
consciousness.     When  it  is  so,  it  is  calculated  to  exci  e 

concerned,  m  degree  with  the  intensity  with  which  the 
relation  absorbs  the  consciousness. 

The  most  easily  intelligible  relations   are  those  of 
space  and  time.    Spatial  relations,  by  themselve     do 

."ciri""-'':?' "  ^^^"^  -o,L;rr;e  a 

'caicely  be  pointed  out  that  the   feelings  excited  bv 


390 


Psychology. 


ii 


movement  involve  the  relation  of  time  as  well.  The 
feeling,  too,  of  vastness  in  extent,  awakened  by  an 
immense  landscape,  or,  still  more,  by  the  infinite  spaces 
of  the  stars,  derives  its  peculiar  nature  rather  from  the 
idea  of  sublimity  than  from  that  of  space  alone. 

Time  enters  as  a  subordinate  factor  into  many 
of  our  emotions ;  but  we  must  limit  ourselves  to  those, 
in  which  it  is  the  distinctive  element.  Here  meet  us 
first  the  emotions  already  noticed,  the  feelings  of  move- 
ment, which  have  a  spatial  element  in  their  primitive 
form,  but  throw  that  off  in  what  has  been  called  the 
"  ideal  movement  "  of  music  and  speech.  Here  abstract 
rapidity  and  slowness  produce  pleasant  or  unpleasant 
effectSj  without  reference  to  any  change  of  place. 

Another  class  of  feelings  arising  from  temporal 
relations  are  those  which  have  been  called  the  prospec- 
tive and  the  retrospective.  The  prospect  of  pleasure  is, 
on  its  emotional  side,  hope  ;  the  prospect  of  pain  is  fear. 
But  the  uncertainty  of  the  future  often  leaves  the  mind 
in  that  state  of  suspense,  in  which  hope  and  fear 
strangely  alternate  or  conflict  with  one  another.*  This 
state  is  unaoubtedly  one  of  the  most  exhausting  to 
which  our  emotional  nature  is  subject ;  and  possibly  its 
painfulness  may  be  due  to  the  fact  that,  like  discordant 
sounds  and  other  feelings  noticed  before,  it  consists  of  a 
series  of  intermittent  shocks,  the  intervals  of  which 
allow  the  sensibility  to  recover,  and  thus  to  undergo  an 
excessive  stimulation. 


*  "  Spemque  metumque  inter  dubii "  {Aateid,  i.,  218),   which 
Byron  probably  had  iu  his  eye  wht  1  writing:  Don  ^uan,  ii.,  98  :— 

••  And  then  of  these  some  part  burst  into  tears  ; 
And  others,  looking  with  a  stupid  stare, 
Could  not  yet  separate  their  hopes  frym  fears." 


Fee!h,gs  Originatins  in  Comparison.      35,, 

•v^'ig    utcn   considered  as  onp  of  fV.^  i 
purest  sources  of  human  enj,.  Ln,     Fo     J,?"'  ""' 
»iih  laws  of  feelini.  „  hi^K  ;,       u  '   "  «<^™''d''>ncc 

already,  it  ":!  :    o  t'rc  T c" '"'^•""^  ^^""'"^'^ 
of  invigoraling   oleasLrTM  '""'""' ^  "^"= 

" the  past  doth  win 

A  glory  fi-om  its  being  far, 
And  orbs  into  the  perfect  star 
We  saw  not  when  we  moved  therein." 

fill  event.  „f  ,V      "^ '"'"'*'  °f  memory;  but  the  pain- 

life      n„r   i„  ,    ,    '"""^""s  into  our  emolional 

vatfdinto     """'f""'  "'''^  regret 'becomes  aS 
-eflect,  .s  thought  as  due  to  any  moral  fault  of  our  own 
Th,s  may  explam  why  a  psychologist,  like  Dr    Tho^  s' 
Brown,  should  be  able  to  cb.isif^»  1,  i"oni,.s 

cur    pn,^t,v,n.        J        ,  ''  *  '^'8^  proportion  of 

our    emotions    under    the    heads   of    t>rosnectivf.    ,nH 
retrospective,.    'Tis  true,  it  may  be  sL:: .  ^in    M 

IS    .rap  ed;    but    m    most    this    element    is    not    the 
d,ffere„t,atmg  cause  which  gives  its  character  .0   Ihe 

But  the  universal  relations  of  intelligence  are,  as  we 


h, , ' 


ul^T"  ""  ""  ""'"'"•'  °^  ""  "•"■''•'  ^"■■^.  63-?. 


392 


Psychology. 


!i!l 


have  seen,  those  of  identity  and  difference;  and  these 
give  rise  to  a  long  series  of  varied  emotions.  Such 
emotions  have  not  always  separate  names.  Sometimes 
it  is  the  pleasant,  sometimes  the  unpleasant,  side  which 
is  most  prominent  in  human  life,  and  which  is  accord- 
ingly distinguished  by  a  familiar  name.  The  most 
common  of  these  emotions  may  be  briefly  described. 

I.  Variety,  as  has  already  been  noticed  more  than 
once,  is  essential  to  the  continuance  of  consciousness 
itself.  It  is,  therefore,  essential  to  that  stimulation  of  the 
sensibility  which  is  required  for  pleasure.  Consequently 
the  prolonged  repetition  of  the  same  mental  state  pro- 
duces the  unpleasant  feeling  known  as  monotony, — a  feel- 
ing which  is  capable  of  completely  neutralising  any  form 
of  enjoyment. 

II.  We  may  enjoy  a  variety  of  impressions  that  are 
all  familiar ;  but  even  the  repetition  of  such  a  variety 
produces  at  last  a  feeling  akin  to  monotony, — the  feeling 
of  excessive  familiarity  or  staleness.  This  is  relieved  only 
by  the  presentation  of  new  objects  to  the  mind.  Novelty 
supplies  the  wonted  stimulus  to  the  sensibility,  and  is 
therefore  a  well-known  source  of  agreeable  effects. 

III.  Familiarity  implies  the  repetition  of  the  same 
objects  ;  but  a  similar  effect  on  the  feelings  may  be  pro- 
duced by  the  continued  presentation  of  the  same  kind  of 
objects.  This  is  the  disagreeableness  which  we  associate 
with  anythir;^  extremely  commonplace.  On  the  other 
hand,  any  object,  which  is  not  so  much  individually  a 
novelty,  which  rather  differs  wholly  from  the  kind  of 
things  to  which  we  are  accustomed,  excites  the  emotion 
of  wonder.  This  emotion  is  sometimes  too  intense  to  be 
pleasant.  An  excessive  deviation  from  what  we  are 
used  to  expect  may  lead  to  disappointment,  to  painful 
astonishment.    In  extreme  cases  a  marvel  may  even  pro- 


Feelings  Originating  in  ComJ>anson.       zgi 

duce  the  effect  of  other  excessively  powerful  stimulants  • 
It  may  deaden  the  sensibih'ty  :  we  may  be  astounded,' 
dumbfounded,  stupified.*    But  this  feature  of  objects  is 
perhaps  more  frequently,  the  sourceof  a  pleasant  surprise' 
Its  pleasantness  is  illustrated  by  the  power  which  the  love 
of  the  marvellous  exercises  over  the  mind.     Not  only  is 
the  marvel  monger  a  favourite  among  vulgar  minds  ;  the 
same   passion   often  induces  the  scientific   student  to 
accept  without  hesitation  ill-verified  assertions  regarding, 
natural  phenomena  of  a  marvellous  kind,  while  it  also 
forms  at  times  a  misleading  taste  in  the  literature  of  history 
and  fiction.  ^ 

IV.  Resemblance  and  contrast  are  additional  modifica- 
tions of  identity  and  difference.      As  already  explained 
resemblance  is  identity  in  the  midst  of  difference,  while 
contrast  is  difference  in  the  midst  of  identity.    These  re- 
lations are  the  source  of  various  emotions,  generally  of 
an  agreeable  nature.     A  contrast  may  sometimes  be  too 
violent  for  pleasure.      This  is,  in  fact,  the  cause  of  pain- 
fulness  in  extreme  astonishment  or  novelty.     But  more 
generally  the  flash  of  contrast,  and  probably  always  the 
flash  of  resemblance  in  consciousness  is  an  agreeable 
stimulus.     They  both  enter  largely  into  the  plea°sures  of 
scientific  discovery  and  artistic  invention.     The  develop- 
ment of  science  is  a  progressive  insight  into  the  resem- 
blances and  contrasts  that  pervade  nature,  while  a- ree- 
able  devices  of  literary  art,  such  as  the  common  fio^urcs 
of  speech,  are  founded  on  the  emotional  effects  of  simili- 
tude and  antithesis. 


It  IS  worth  observing  that,  at  times,  though  less  frequently, 
excessive  variety  is  fatiguing,  and  exc  ve  novehy  (brandnewnesi 
too  striking;  so  that  occasionally  a  moderate  sameness  or  familinr.-.„ 
may  lorm  a  picasing  relief  to  the  mind.  ' 


394 


Psychology. 


lli 


ill 


;:'! 


ii:  -1 


;•  % 


V.  When  identity  and  difference  are  applied  to  time, 
we  get  the  relations  of  periodicity  and  aperiodicity,  of 
rhythm  and  irregularity  of  movement;  for  these  relations 
imply  respectively  the   recurrence  of  identical   and  of 
different   times.      Even   in   the    feelings   of  sense   the 
organism    appears   adapted   to   rhythmical    stimulation. 
As  already  explained,  it  is  this  adaptation  that  makes 
tones  agreeable  in  contrast  with  noises,  rich  in  co  Urast 
with  harsh  qualities  of  tone,  and  harmonious  combina- 
tions  of  tone  in  contrast  with  discords.     It  may  also 
account  in  some  measure  for  the  disagreeableness  of  a 
flickering  light,  of  false  time  in  music,  of  a  false  quantity 
or  metre  in  the  recitation  of  poetry,  of  false  steps  in  a 
dance,  of  an  unsteady  gait,  of  any  movement  by  jerks 
of  an  orator  who  speaks  in  spurts.     It  is  not  easy  to  say 
where,  m  such  cases,  sensuous  feeling  ends ;  but  it  is 
evident  that  in  the  higher  feelings  also  rhythm  mingles 
as   an   emotional   agent.     It   enters    especially,   as    an 
mfluential  factor,   into  the  enjoyment  of  poetical  and 
musical  form. 

VI.  Another  set  of  relations  involving  identity  and 
difference  are  those  of  harmony  and  discord,  understood 
m  the  figurative  application  of  these  terms.  In  their 
most  general  use  these  terms  may  be  interpreted  as  im- 
plying an  identity  or  difference  of  relations,  as  when  two 
objects  do  or  do  not  form  complementary  parts  of  one 
whole.  Such  identity  and  difference  is,  therefore,  what 
we  understand  by  the  various  expressions,  order  and 
disorder,  proportion  and  disproportion,  symmetry  and 
asymmetry,  congruity  and  incongruity. 

The  relation,  denoted  by  the'former  term  in  each  of 
these  sets  of  expressions,  is  a  very  extensive  source  of 
the  more  refined  enjoyments  of  human  life.  It  enters 
largely  into  the  varied  forms  of  esthetic  gratification 


Feelings  Originating  in  Comparison.      395 

to^  .0  tL™'r  ~''""=  "'"  «'^^'  '"  ^""^^'J  -"ind'  '^ 
n   rest  nl     "?'  fl'™""'-    "^"^  """^^  ^«'-"o"  -  <>' 

almo«  T""'Tf  '!■'  "'^''"'°"'  '"''  eiven  rise  to 
beautv  V'      *"''''^  °'  °P''"'°"  «  ">«  feeling  of 

ness   degradation  accompanied  by  tlie  feeling  of  power 

each  of  hese  quaht.es  instances  have  been  cited,  where, 
scorn  't\  '"'k  ""^    '"""   emotion.-pi.y    anger 

00k  .'hf  f'T^r  ""f "  "'''"^^•*    S"'^''  ""i^'^'n^  over! 
look  the  fact  that  there  is  a  subjective  a,  well  as  an  ob- 

fore,  of  any  objective  quality  cannot  be  told  without 

"me.     Thus  incongruity  will  excite  ridicule,  if  it  is  not 
counteracted  by  the  mental  condition  of  t      mV^en 

aspects  '"°."'™°"  °'^"'  ""^  °''^"  '"^  ^'--<^ '"  o<h" 
"gs  in  different  minds,  or  even  in  the  same  mind  at  dif- 

Sr  r,r  ''"'"^'°^  ""-"p'^'  "^^  <«"'  -ntortio l  f 

pain,  or  the  comical  behaviour  of  a  drunkard.    When 
viewed  exclusively  on  their  droll  side,  these  phenomena 
w,    ^^redly  excite  the  sentiment  of  the  ridicul ousTbu 
hat  side  may  be  entirely  obliterated  in  minds  of  d  epe 
'"  ■gh  or  more  sympathetic  tenderness.     On  goinc  over 
ndiculous  objects  no  more  prominent  oharac.eiisuf  ,ha„ 
"congruity  can    be  found   universally  present.     Other 
qualities,  such  as  degradation,  with  the  relief  of  sell  e.at 

■  See,  for  example.  Bain's  n.  EmclUm  mui  ,h.  Will,  pp.  248. 


59^ 


Psychology, 


tation,  may  be  frequently,  perhaps  commonly,  met  with ; 
but  even  if  they  could  be  shown  to  be  uniformly  there' 
in  the  production  of  ridicule  they  are  altogether  subordi' 
nate  to  the  relation  expressed  by  such  terms  as  dispro- 
portion, incongruity,  oddity,  drollness. 

VII.  The  feelings  of  freedom  and  restraint  have  also 
been  enumerated  among  those  that  are  based  on  com- 
panson ;  for  it  is  only  by  relation  to  each  other  that  these 
conditions  have  any  meaning  in  consciousness.  Were 
It  not  for  the  fact  that  human  life  provides  all  men  with 
an  occasional  experience  of  the  irksomeness  of  restraiht, 
the  glory  of  freedom  would  never  be  realisea  ;  and  with' 
out  a  taste  of  freedom  it  is  proverbial  that  the  slave  will 
"hug  his  chains." 

VIII.  Emulation,  that  is,  the  emotional  excitement 
developed  m  competition,  is  obviously  due  to  a  compari- 
son  between  the  subject  of  the  feeling  and  his  rival  or 
rivals.  This  feeling  undergoes,  of  course,  the  same  kind 
of  expansion  to  which  mental  evolution  in  general  is  sub- 
ject,  and  therefore  it  manifests  itself  in  a  great  variety  of 
directions.  It  also  enters  extensively  as  a  factor  into 
many  of  the  complex  emotions,  inasmuch  as  the  activi- 
ties, by  which  our  sensibility  is  excited,  are  very  often 
pursuits  in  which  we  are,  implicitly  or  explicitly,  com- 
peting  with  our  fellowmen. 


Intellectual  Feelings, 


397 


CHAPTER  IV. 


INTELLECTUAL  FEELINGS. 

QUR' pleasures  and  pains  are  the  concomiiants  of 
V^      the  varied  activities  of  hfe      Now  nnr  ..,-  : 
-ybe  reg^ded  as  either  co^^aio^l^lZ^^^^'Z 

Whose  chief  rletermining  cause  is  an  activity  of  the  one 
or  of  the  other  kind.     In  the  present  chapter  we  shall 
exa„„ne  the  .ntellectual,  and  in  the  concluding  chante 
the  practical  emotions.  ^  i-napter 

The  acquisition  of  knowledge  is  the  source  of  many 
and  varied  enjoyments.  There  is  scarcely  one  oMhe 
pleasurable  feelings  described  in  the  prevfous  ch  Jter 

pursuits.  The  exertion  of  intellect,  when  not  overstrained 
■s  .n  uself  an  agreeable  activity;  while  selfe  te  ™   the 
est  em  of  others,  the  pleasure  of  power,  and  othtfeel 
ing^  may  enter  as  subsidiary  factors  of  the  whole  enjoy. 

knowledge-the  feeling  commonly  treated  by  psvcholo 
g.sts  under  the  name  of  cun^sify.  During  the  earlier" 
years  of  life,  until  the  familiar  facts  of  the  world  e 
nmeed  curiosity  forms  a  strong  and  useful  mpul 
n  ate,  „fe  „  ,3  only  among  men  of  some  educa  ion 
that  ,t  forms  a  useful  and  refining  power.  I„  vu  «ar 
tiinds  It  al  e.<?  iVc^if  «,.vu  *i,-  ...        ^        .  vujgar 


tiinds  It  allies  itself  with  th^  n-,..^ 


i 


petty  instincts,  and 


m 


Hi 


9h 

'llSi! 


398 


Psychology, 


even  with  the  malicious  pascions  of  human  nature, 
degenerating  into  a  prurient  craving  after  the  Icnovvledge 
of  facts  too  trivial  or  too  pernicious  to  be  worth  know- 


ing. 


It  thus  appears  that  the  use  of  the  intellect  in  acquir- 
ing   knowledge   is    a    source   of    numerous    pleasures. 
Generally,  however,  the  emotioiial  factor  of  intellectual 
work  is  subordinate,  the  consciousness  being  absorbed 
in  the  primal  end  of  the  work,  the  object  *o  be  known. 
This  end  may  be  purely  speculative— the  acquisition  of 
knowledge  for  its  own  sake  ;  or  it  may  be  practical— the 
acquisition  of  knowledge  for  the  purpose  of  directing  us 
to  some  ulterior  result.     But  in  either  case  it  is  the  object 
sought  that  engrosses  the  conscious  eflfort.      Sometimes, 
however,  the  end  of  intellectual  activity  is  neither  specu- 
lative nor  practical,  but  simply  the  delight  in  the  activity 
itself,  not  excluding,  of  course,  any  collateral  pleasures 
which  it  may  involve  ;  and  then  arises  the  emotional  state 
known  as  aesthetic  feeling. 

The  nature  of  this  feeling  has  been  already  indicated 
in  the  chapter  on  Idealisation.*  It  was  there  shown 
that  intellectual  activity,  to  be  aesthetic,  must  be  of  the 
nature  of  play.  But  play  is  an  exercise  which  seeks  no 
end  beyond  its  own  pleasure;  and  therefore  aesthetic  en- 
joyment is  found  in  the  intellectual  activity  itself,  out  of 
which  it  arises,  not  in  any  ulterior  end.  It  follows  from 
this,  that  aesthetic  gratifications  are  distinct  from  selfish 
pleasures,  on  the  one  hand,  and  from  moral  interests  on 
the  other. 

I.  They  are  distinct  from  all  selfish  enjoyments— all 
enjoyments  connected  with  the  struggle  for  existence. 
Hence, 


•Book,  ii.,  Part  ii.,  Chapter  iv. 


Inlelle,  ual  Feelings. 


399 

I  Some  sensations,  such  as  the  gustative  and  the  ali- 
mentary, are  wholly  eiccluded  from  the  esthetic  field.  In 
to  ce„»at,on  as  such-mere  sensuous  «ci.emem-is. 

ion    f  '^t"^'  T  ^"  '^'"'"'■^     The  higher  sensa! 

.ions  fL,rn>sh  natural  materials  for  the  aesthetic  conscious, 
ness ;  but  they  ye'd  a  purely  aesthetic  pleasure  only  when 

hey  have  entered  into  suggestive  associations  and  intel. 

ectual  combmations.  Accordingly  it  was  shown  that 
the  different  sensations  are  adapted  to  artistic  purposes 
m  proportion  to  their  distinct  representability.  Esthetic 
material,  being  thus  found  rather  in  ideal  representations 
than  in  actual  sensations,  can  be  enjoyed  by  many  •  it  is 
not  consumed  in  being  enjoyed  by  one.  The  enjoyment 
IS,  therefore,  essentially  unselfish,  disinterested.  The 
contrast  between  selfish  and  aesthetic  gratifications  is  ex- 

iTJ^rrn'"/"  '°"'^"'  "^^  P'^"'"^^  of  '""^^y  viewing 
a  tastefully  decorated  banquet  with  the  pleasure  of  eating 

e  viands.      The  unselfishness  of  ce,,.hetic  emotion! 
therefore,  constitutes  also  its  refinement;  for  refinement 
as  previously  explained,   is  the  power  of  freeing  con- 
sciousness from  mere  sensuous  states,  and  occupying  it 
with  mental  products.  ^ 

J:th^VT"  ,''^""^  representations,  to  be  aesthetic, 
mu  t  be  absolutely  disinterested.  Beautiful  objects  may 
at  times  naturally  excite  meaner  passions  lilce  envy 
lealousy  or  vanity.  A  bitter  drop  of  envy  or  jealousy  I 
oft  n  sufficient  to  neutralise  all  the  sweetness  of  .esthetic 
feel.ng;  an  artistic  production,  that  is  known  to  be  a 

effect  tha    might  have  been  expected  from  its  intrinsic 

fie  tion       I    T      "'  ""  ''  '"•  ^''^'*"S  -thetic  grati! 
fication.     In  the  same  way,  although  the  useful  m^y  be 

beautiful,  it  is  so,  not  becms^  ;.  ,-c  „..f,,i  .....  i        '^     . 

••'  uo;.iiii,  uui  uecause  oi 


400 


Psychology. 


the  intellectual  pleasure  afTorded  by  contemplating  the 
manner  in  which  it  is  useful. 

II.  But  aesthetic  feeling  is  essentially  distinct  from  all 
moral  interests,  as  it  is  from  the  selfish  passions  of  the 
struggle  for  existence.     Moral  activity  supposes  an  ulte- 
rior end ;  in  fact,  it  supposes  an  implicit  reference  to  the 
ultimate  end  of  our  being.      Consecfuently  it  stands  re- 
lated to  art  in  the  same  way  as  the  production  of  utilities. 
Art  may  be  moral  as  it  may  be  useful,  and  its  aesihetic 
effect  may  be  enhanced  by  its  morality  or  by  its  utility. 
Nay,  the  artist,  being  a  moral  agent,  must  have  some 
sort  of  moral  aim  in  his  artistic  activity  as  in  other  spheres 
of  his  conduct.      Moreover,  the  object  of  art  being  the 
production  of  an  intellectual  pleasure,  the  artist  dare  not 
overlook  the  value  of  the  moral  sentiments,  as  any  flag- 
rant offence  to  these  would  inevitably  defeat  his  sesthetic 
aim.    Still  the  aesthetic  gratification,  which  a  work  of  art 
yields,  cannot  be  derived  from  the  fact  that  it  has  a  moral 
purpose.     This  fact  would  excite  the  sentiment  of  moral 
approbation.   The  aesthetic  pleasure  is  derived  from  con- 
templating the  manner  in  which  the  moral  facts  of  life 
are  combined  for  the  production  of  an  artistic  effect. 

The  pure  form  of  aesthetic  pleasure  is  that  expressed 
by  the  term  beaitty,  and  pure  aesthetic  pain  is  ugliness. 
But,  like  other  emotions,  these  admit  of  numerous  modi- 
fications according  to  the  subsidiary  influences  which 
may  happen  to  predominate  in  the  artistic  material  by 
which  the  aesthetic  effect  is  produced      In  works  ' 
psychology  and  aesthetics  it  is  common  to  give  pron 
ence  to  the  feelings  of  sublimity,  in  which  aesthetic  enjo> 
ment  is  just  passing  over  into  the  distu'-bing  emotions  of 
wonder  and  awe  and  power.     The  picturesque  and  the 
ludicrous  are  also  familiar  objects  of  aesthetic  pleasure. 
In  the  former,  the  pure  aesthetic  feeling  is  modified  by 


Intellectual  Feelings.  401 

an  excess  of  variety ;  in  the  latter,  by  an  excess  of  in- 
congruity.  In  strictness,  however,  aesthetic  feeling  is 
much  more  variously  modified  ihan  it  is  commonly  re- 
presented to  be.  The  weird,  for  exanjple,  in  which  the 
mysterious,  the  "  uncanny,"  the  supernatural  plays  a 
promment  part,  has,  indeed,  a  certain  affinity  with  the 
subhme  in  the  common  feeling  of  awe,  but  is  destitute 
of  Its  other  essential  factors.*  A  distinct  place  -  '^ht 
also  to  be  given  to  the  tragic,  in  which  the  painfu  > 
tions,  especially  terror  and  pity,  form  the  chief  sesthet* 
material,  and  also  to  the  dramatic,  in  which  aesthetic 
effects  are  based  mainly  on  plot-interest. 

But  the  complete  analysis  of  these  various  aesthetic 
effects  would  carry  us  into  the  details  of  the  science  of 
aesthetics. 


ir    I 


*  The  feeling  of  the  weird  is  expressed  in  the  Scottish  adjecay* 


403 


Psycholo^, 


CHAPTER  V. 


FEELINGS  OF  ACTION. 

TN  the  general  evolution  of  mental  life  volition,  that 
1      IS,   action   in  the  strictest  sense  of  the   term     is 
called  into  play ;  and  the  action,  as  action,  gives  rise  to 
various  feehngs,  pleasurable  and  painful. 

There  is  a  pleasure  in  mere  action,— a  pleasure  which 
at  an  earlier  period  of  life,  displays  itself  mainly  in  the 
love  of  muscular  sports,  and  during  later  years  gives  a 
zest  to  the  varied  industrial,  intellectual,  and  moral 
activities  of  men.  But  all  action,  strictly  so  called,  im- 
plies an  end;  and  this  circumstance  constitutes  it  a  more 
fruitful  source  of  emotion. 

I.  The  attainment  of  any  end  gives  us  the  pleasure  of 
feeling  that  it  is  within  our  power,  as  failure  to  reach  it 
excites  the  mortification  of  powerlessness,  of  baffled  en- 
deavour.    In  this  we  have  the  source  of  ambition,  the 
love  of  power,  which  obviously  forms  an  extensive  and 
varied  influence  in  human  life.  .  If  in  younger  years,  and 
in  many  men  to  the  very  last,  it  shows  itself  only  in  the 
pleasure  of  producing  results  of  bodily  strength  or  skill 
It  expands  under  advancing  culture  into  the  aspiration 
after    that  powc^r  which   high    intelligence   wields   over 
nature  and  men.      It  has  been  pointed  out  that  this 
emotion  enters  as  an   ingredient  into  the   pleasure  uf 
vutue,  inasmuch  as  the  virtuous  life  is  a  realisation  of 


Feelings  of  Action,  403 

complete  power  over  self,  not  to  speak  of  the  mfluence 
I  may  exert  over  others.  But  the  love  of  power  seem, 
also  to  add  force  to  the  cruel  side  of  human  nature- 
nothmg  yields  such  a  vivid  consciousness  of  our  power 
over  another  as  his  subjection  to  our  torture.* 

II.  But  without  evoking  the  definite  feeling  of  power 

the  presence  of  an  end  may  kindle  a  more  or  less  eage^ 

des.re  for  its  attainment.   This  eagerness  takes  sometintes 

an  egoistic,  sometimes  an  altruistic,  direction,     i.  In  its 

egoistic  form  it  originates  the  pleasure  of  pursuit,  the 

pleasure  of  approximating  to  the  end  of  an  actio     to  the 

ideal  of  a  life.     2.  In  its  altruistic  form  this  emotion 

arises  from  contemplating  the  activity  of  others,  and  the 

development  of  its  results.     We  thus  obtain  that  Inroe 

element  of  literary  gratification,   the   pleasure   0,  plot- 

mterest.  ^ 

III.  As  each  action  supposes  an  end,  so  each 
subordinate  end  supposes  some  supreme  end.  to  ^vhich 
it  IS  merely  a  means.  All  the  immediate  ends  or  human 
actions,  therefore,  point  to  a  chief  end  of  man.  a  sum.uan 
bonum  of  his  life.  The  pleasures  connected  with  the 
pursuit  and  attainment  of  this  end.  the  pains  connected 
with  the  failure  to  reach  it,~these  enter  as  piomiacnc 
factors  into  the  moral  sentiments. 


•  Stewart  has  given  a  specially  interesting  illustradon  or'  the 
nun^erous  dKectxons  of  the  love  o,  power  in  his  Philoso^n,  ./  ' 
Actw6  and  Moral  Powers,  Book  i.,  Chap,  ii.,  §  ^.  ^  ^  ^ 


I' 

I' 
f 

li 

5! 


Volitions. 


405 


PART  III. 


VOLITIONS. 

ITOTJTIONS  are  actions  consciously  directed  to  an 
V  end ;  and  the  problem  of  psychology  is  to  explain 
the  process  by  which  we  acquire  control  over  our  ac 
tions  so  as  to  make  them  subserve  the  ends  we  have  in 
view  mstead  of  being  aimless.  In  the  treatment  of  this 
problem  we  shall  discuss  (i)  the  nature  of  volition,  I2) 
the  motive  power  of  the  feelings,  (3)  the  extension  0/ 
voluntary  control  over  muscles,  feelings,  and  thoughts. 
(4)  freedom  of  volition.  ^     * 


40$ 


Psychology, 


CHAPTER    I, 


THE  GENERAL  NATURE  OF  VOLITION. 

HERE,  as  in  cogniHon  and  feeling,  the  rudimenfary 
material  of  the  mental  life  is  to  be  found  in 
sensation,-here  considered  as  giving,  not  information 
or  pleasure  and  pain,  but  impulse  to  action.     There  are 
indeed  impulses  outside  of  conscious  sensation.     There 
are  possibly,  as  a  favourite  doctrine  of  Professor  Bain 
holds,    spontaneous    discharges    of    surplus    muscular 
energy.*      Certainly  stimuli  transmitted  along  afferent 
nerves  are  often  reflected  along  efferent  nerves  without 
excitmg  consciousness.     These  spontaneous  and  reflex 
muscular  movements  are  moreover  not  without  value  in 
the  development  of  voluntary  movements  ;  but  they  are 
by  no  means  so  valuable  as  those  experiences,  in  which 
movement  follows,  though  involuntarily,  upon  a  conscious 
sensation.      Thus  we  close  the  eyes,  or  turn  the  head 
away,  from  a  dazzling  light.      We  shrink  or  scream  or 
groan    under  an    excessive    pain.       The    hand    plays 
tenderly  with  any  smooth  soft  body  which  it  touches 
We  are  constantly  shifting  to  relieve  the  uneasiness  of  a 
posture  maintained  too  long.     In  a  thousand  ways  the 


h-  ' 


J-rP'  ^""''  Z^  ^^'  ^'''''^"^'  PP-  5973  i  T/u  Emotiom  and  thi 
Wtll,  pp.  297-308. 


lii 


The  General  Nature  of  Volition.         407 


feeling  of  pl< 


feeling 


^.''«^sure,  perhaps  more  frequently  t„c  .ceung 
of  pam,  discharges  itself  in  excitements  of  motor  nerve 
1  he  movements,  thus  involuntarily  stimulated  by  sensa- 
tion, are  observed  very  otrikingly  in  the  changing 
positions  of  the  sleeper,  when  he  is  disturbed.  It  is  not 
possible  always  to  distinguish  such  movements  from 
stricUy  reflex  actions ;  but  the  distinction  is  real. 

„Wh^"u''"    '""'°"   ''    *"'    involuntarily   performed, 
hm    'h  !.'  =P°"'^"'^°"=  "  reflex  or  sensational  stimulus 
..may  be  the  cause,  directly  or  indirectly,  of  pleasure  ^r 
pam.     In  fact,  most  of  our  pleasures  and  pains  imply 
some  .ction  on  our  part.    We  speak  of  objects  being  the 
causes  of  our  feelings;  but  objects  must  be  brough 
mto  the  proper  relation  to  our  organism  to  excite  it, 
sensibility     Thus  a  beautiful  scene  must  be  looked  at  • 
a  sap.d  body  must  be  put  into  the  mouth,  an  odou 
must  be  smffed,  before  the  appropriate  feel  ngs  can  be 
expenenced.       The    action    therefore    comes    to    be 
associated  m  consciousness  with  the  pleasure  or  pain  it 
produces  ;  and,  as  already  explained,*  it  is  thus  that 

action  and  feeling  makes  them  mutually  suggestive 
The  feeling,  therefore,  whether  actually  felt  or  merely 
remembered,  will  suggest  the  action,  by  which  it  is  pro' 
duced ,  but  an  action,_a  muscular  movement,-cannot 
be  represented  in  consciousness  without  a  faint  thrill  i„ 
the  muscular  region  which  would  be  stirred  if  the 
movement  were  actually  made.  This  thrill  of  repre- 
senting an  action  in  connection  with  a  pleasure  to  be 
re.ached  or  a  pain  ,0  be  avoided  by  it,-this  is  that 
conscious  state   of  desire,   craving,   longing,   yearning 


See  Chap.  ii.  of  the  previous  Part. 


4o8 


Psychology. 


which  has  been  well  named  "  the  small  beginnings  of 
action."*  ° 

This  mental  state  finds  its  most  vivid  and  familiar 
Illustration  in  the  earliest  form  in  which  it  shows  itself  in 
human  life-our  animal  appetites.      The  term,  appetite 
when  used  in  its  most  restricted  sense,  is  applied  to  those 
periodic  cravings  which  arise  from  the  recurring  wants  of 
animal  nature.      Of  these  it  is  common  to  distinguish 
two  kinds-one  as  being  natural  and  original,  the  other 
as  artificial  and  acquired.     The  latter  are  simply  particu- 
lar habits  imposed  on  the  nervous  system  by  the  peculiar 
indulgences  of  individuals,,      Such  are  the  cravings  for 
alcohol,   tobacco,  opium,   tea,   flesh,   spices,  and  other 
stimulants  or  narcotics.     Appetites  of  this  sort  are  of 
course  not  universal  impulses  of  the  human  mind,  but 
are  mere  accidents   of  individual   life.     On   the  other 
hand,  the  natural  or  original  appetites  have  their  source 
in  the  mtrinsic  wants  of  our  animal  constitution,  and  are 
therefore  common  to  all  men.     The  most  obstrusive  of 
these  in  daily  consciousness  are  those  most  closely  con- 
nected with  the  struggle  for  individual  existence,  hunger 
and  thirst.     But,  in  addition  to  these,  the  sexual  organic 
cravings,  the  craving  for  sleep,  the  cravings  for  activity 
and   rest,  and  perhaps  some  other  bodily  desires  of  a 
more  obscure  character,  are  also  to  be  included  among 
natural  appetites.     These  earliest  and  simplest  forms  of 
desire  remain  throughout  life  the  types  of  all  the  more 
complex  longings  of  the  mind.     In  common  language 
the  terms  hunger  and  thirst,  in  particular,  are  extensively 
applied  to  describe   -ven  the  highest  aspirations  of  life 

l^orit  scarcely  needs  observing,  that  cravings  mav 
oave  their  origin  not  merely  in  the  pleasures  and  pain's 


Hohbes'  Lcvialhan,  p.  39,  Mdosworth's  ed. 


The  General  Nature  of  Volition.         409 

of  sense.     The  impulsive  p,  >ver  of  a  sensation  depends 
on  us  power  of  giving  pleasure  and  pain;  but  tliis  po^e 

t  be  ongs  equally  to  the  stage  of  pure  emotion.      The 
m.pulstve  action  of  feeling,  however,  even  at  this  higher 
stage,  does  not  constitute  volition.      Numberless  action, 
m  the  daily  life  of  ail  men  are  the  thoughtle    ,  invTn 
tary  promptings  of  emotion.      A  sudden  ecsta;y  of  oy 
an   unexpected  excess  of  sorrow,  a  flash   of  hope   I 
despair,  an  overwheln.ing  panic,  a  furious  outburst  o 
anger,-such  emotions  will  diffuse  themselves  irresistibly 
over  vanous  muscular  regions,  and  determine  all  sorts  of 
amtless  acons.    But  a  volition  is  not  aimless  or  thought- 
ess;  ,t  ,mp„es  a  thought  of  the  end  to  be  attained  by 
the  action.     How  is  this  developed  ? 

reflt7'''/""'  ""  '"^  ''""•  ''  ""'  ">^^^'y  ""  ^"'on  un- 
eflecttvely  prompted,  suggested  by  a  previous  a.<,ocia. 
tion   with   some  pleasure  it   produces.      I,  implies  a 
CO  .scousness  of  this  association,  a  conscious  compari- 
on  of  action  and  pleasure  with  a  cognition  of  the  r 
relation  as  means  and  end.      It  is  only  when  we  thu 
eflect  on  the  end  to  be  attained  by  an  action,  that  the 
action  becomes  voluntary.      This  fact  is  apt  t^  be  lost 
sght  of  as  it  IS  obscured  by  an  ambiguity  !„  the  use  o 
the  word  motive.      This  term  is  sometimes  employed  to 
denote  an  impulse  of  sensibility,  by  which  we  are  moved 
to  act  without  reflection;  and  surh  action  implies  no 
mteliigent  control.     But  in  a  higher  application  t'he  erm 
Identified  with,  intention  or  intelligent  purpose;  tha 
.s  to  say,  a  motive,  in  .his  sense,  is  an  object  set  before 
consciousness  as  the  end  to  be  reached  by  the  perform! 
nee  of  an  action.      It  is  only  actions  dLted  Jy7^ 
higlier  sort  of  motives  that  are  voluntary.     A  volition  L 
an  act  of  an  intelligent  being  acting  inte  ligentir 


III 


4IO 


Pifcliology, 


CHAPTER  11. 


THE  MOTIVE  POWER  OF  THE  FEELINGS. 

pROM  the  previous  chapter  it  appears  that,  in  ordei 
JL        to  volition,  there  must  be  a  representation  of  the 
end  to  be  attained.      We  have  thus  a  test  of  the  voli- 
tH>nal  quahty  of  a.fferent  feelings  ;  and  it  is  found  to  be 
.dentical  w„h  that  quality  on  which  the  intellectual  and 
emotional  I,fe  also  depends,-that  combination  of  associa 
bihty  and  comparability  which  has  been  briefly  described 
before  as  distinct  representability.     It  is  true  that  in  the 
mental  picture  of  ends  it  is  often  not  so  much  the  future 
feelings  themselves  that  are  represented,  but  rather  the 
external  circumstances  in  which  these  are  expected.    Nor 
IS  It  difficult  to  understand  why  this  should  be  the  case 
Not  only  are  external  circumstances,   implying  usually 
visual  images,  capable  of  being  represented  with  greater 
vividness  than  pleasures  and  pains;  but  it  is  by  picturing 
m  imagination  the  external  stimulants  of  our  pleasuret 
and  pains  that  these  are  realised  in  anticipation      Still 
in  order  to  endow  our  feelings  with  volitional  power' 
hey  must  be  represented  to  the  mind;  and  therefore 
this^  power  of  our  feelings  demands  some  consideration 

To  understand  this  power  in  all  its  bearing,,  the  feel, 
mgs  must  be  viewed  both  on  their  sensible  stle,  thatt, 


i  > 

Tie  Motive  Power  of  the  Feelings.      4, , 

side,  that  is,  as  sources  of  knowledge. 

I.  In  the  former  aspect  they  possess  two  somewhit 
contrasted  properties,  intensity  Ind  durabil"^  " 

i,  \2a   '"""'"^  °^"  '■^^""g-  =">  "«  have  already  seen 
«  the  degree  in  which  it  absorbs  the  consciousnes^ 

1^  e  ;;r  ^'X°' "  '"""^  "^^  -^^  -'^  -"-  e 

measure  of  ,ts  motive  power  while  it  lasts.     This  law 
implies  two  facts  :-(.)  that  the  power  of  a  feelinV  to 

in  whicl'oufr'  f "T"'  "  '"*"^"'  ^^  *«  "— 
m  Which  our  moral  judgment  is  modified  by  finding  tint 

an  action  has  or  has  not  been  done  under 'the  inSuence 

of  intense  feeling.      Thi.  modification  is  obse  ved  not 

cT^^'.t  C:'"r  °r '^'^"^'^  ^"-^  P-icuL7sod 
circles    It  has  influenced  even  civilised  jurisprudence 

Ss  f  h  rbe'"""''  '=°"^™^  "^^'^  oni;with'exte:na, 
mitigate  t  ,e  punishment  of  crimes  perpetrated  un  Inr 
powerful  temptations,  such  as  a  theft  of  b^  do  escape 

iTrlr-  °^^  ""'"'^"^^  ''-"P'^'l  by  a  sudden  ovt 
powering  passion. 

W  But  this  statement  is  subject  to  the  importint 
quahfication,  that  the  intensity  of  a  passion  meaTes"« 

it  can  be  of  influence  as  a  motive  onlv  by  bein-  renr^ 
semed;  and  therefore  its  motive  powerde^„rthn?„ 
L  h  "T  y^P'^^^"'^''""^-  Indeed,  as  soon  as  reflcc 
t.on  has  had  time  to  work,  passion  begins  to  wane  "nd 
m  general,  therefore,  it  may  be  said,  that  our  feehnis  are 
powerful  stimulants  of  action  in  proportion  0^^' 
intensity  on  y  while  they  operate  as  unreflecting  mot  veT 
As  motives  in  the  higher  sense  of  the  term,  as  oWe      o, 


412 


Psychology, 


i  J 


/ntelligent  purpose,  they  imply  the  power  of  being  dit. 
tinctly  represented. 

2.  But  before  proceeding  to  this  intellectual  quality  of 
the  feelings,  there  is  another  quality,  which  they  possess 
in  their  sensible  aspect,  demanding  consideration.  The 
durability  of  a  feeling  is  its  capacity  of  continuing  in 
consciousness  without  relief.  The  relation  of  durability 
to  intensity  may  be  suflficiently  expressed  by  saying  that 
the  two  are  in  an  inverse  proportion  to  each  other,  if 
this  mathematical  formula  is  understood  not  to  imply  the 
exact  measurements  of  quantity,  which  are  characteristic 
of  mathematical  science. 

This  relation  has  impressed  itself  deeply  on  the  com- 
mon consciousness  of  men,  and  impressed  itself  as  a  fact 
of  supreme  importance  in  its  bearing  on  the  sum  of 
human  happiness.  For,  as  already  explained  in  connec- 
tion with  the  theory  of  pleasure  and  pain,  excessive  or 
prolonged  intensity,  passing  the  limit  of  healthy  action, 
destroys  sensibility  ;  so  that  a  period  is  soon  put  to  the 
duration  of  intense  feelings.  "  The  breath  of  flowers," 
says  Lord  Bacon,  "is  far  sweeter  in  the  air,  where  it 
comes  and  goes  like  the  warbling  of  music,  than  in  the 
hand."*  And  the  principle  here  implied  holds  good, 
not  only  of  odours,  but  of  all  kinds  of  feeling.  The 
pleasures  which  contribute  most  to  our  general  welfare 
are  those  which  come  and  go,  or  are  of  calmer  tone  and 
enjoyed  in  moderation.  Fortunately,  persistent  intensity 
destroys  sensibility  to  pain  as  well  as  pleasure.  The 
worst  agonies,  therefore,  as  the  brutal  malice  of  the 
savage  and  the  refined  malice  of  the  inquisitor  equally 
know,  are  those  pains  which  die  away  and  return  upon 
us  afresh;  or  they  are  those  calm  griefs  vhich  settle 


•  Tr^„„..  /-ir  /^ J 


The  Motive  Power  of  the  Feelitigs.        413 

down  into  a  calm  despair.  "Dolor  in  longinquitate 
levis,  m  gravitate  brevis  soletesse;  ut  ejus  magtutudinem 
celeritas,  diuturnitatem  allevatio  consoletur."*  It  is  lor 
this  reason  that  we  refuse  to  trust  in  the  continuance  of 
intense  feelings  :  we  prefer  a  sober  friendship  to  any 
"gushing"  affection;  and  we  look  with  certainty  to  the 
early  decay  of  all  ecstasies,  sensual,  intellectual,  moral 
and  religious  alike.  ' 

"  His  rash  fierce  blaze  of  riot  cannot  last, 
For  violent  fires  soon  burn  out  themselves ;"t 

and  there  is  a  wise  psychology  in  the  old  proverb,  "Love 
me  little  and  love  me  long  '  Even  in  the  lofaest  senti- 
ment an  excess  of  fervour,  equally  with  anv  excess  in 
mere  sensation,  is  apt  to  abolish  consciousncos. 

"  In  such  high  hour 
Of  visitation  from  the  living  God 
Thought  was  not ;  in  enjoyment  it  expircil.* 

But  the  lesson,  impressed  on  the  mind  by  the  relation 
of  durability  to  intensity  of  feeling,  is  affected  by  an  im- 
portant qualification.  We  have  already  seen  that  variety 
is  an  essential  condition  of  consciousness  in  general,  of 
pleasurable  consciousness  in  particular.  Nothing  neu- 
tralises all  kinds  of  enjoyment  more  completely  than 
monotony.  An  uniform  calm,  therefore,  even  of  enjoy- 
ment, tends  to  degenerate  into  insipidity.  To  avoid 
this  result  it  is  usual  to  vary  the  even  tenor  of  the  emo- 
tional life  by  occasional  seasons  of  heightened  enjoy- 
ment.    Though  plain  food  forms  the  staple  gratification 


m 


•  Cicero,  De  Finibiis^  i.  12. 

t  Richard  the  Se.omi,  Act  ii.,  Scene  i.      Compare  the  passa-e 
kom  Komeo  and  /ttiiet,  quoted  above,  p.  326.  -        " 


i 


414 


Psychology, 


of  life,  there  is  a  need  for  feasts  at  times  ;  and  fhis  forms 
the  reason  of  banquets,  holidays,  hightides.  For  one 
moment  of  intense  enjoyment  may,  in  many  instances, 
be  infinitely  preferable  to  a  feeble  prolongation  of  the 
same  feeling. 

"  Come  what  sorrow  can, 
It  cannot  countervail  the  exchange  of  joy 
That  one  short  minute  gives  me  in  her  sight."* 

It  would  appear  also  as  if  in  tiie  anguish  of  a  second 
might  be  summed  up  the  misery  of  years.  In  the  history 
of  some  kinds  of  suffering  man  is  not  without  occasional 
experience  of  a  mom.ent  of  unspeakable  horror,  regarding 
which  it  may  be  truly  said,  that 

"  In  thaf.  instant  o'er  his  soul 
Winters  of  memory  seemed  to  roll, 
And  gather  in  that  drop  of  time 
A  life  of  pain,  an  age  of  crinie."f 

This  fact,  however,  bears  upon  the  feelings  consiucred 
not  merely  as  sources  of  pleasure  and  pain,  but  also  as 
impulses  to  action.  There  is  a  tide  in  the  emotions  of 
men,  which,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  high  achieve- 
ments. Enthusiasm,  that  is,  an  unusual  intensity  of 
elevating  sentiment,  is  necessary  to  raise  men  above  a 
humdrum  existence.  And  therefore,  for  the  sake  of 
energetic  activity,  men  dare  to  risk  the  emotional  storms 


*  Romeo  and  Juliet,  Act  ii.,  Scene  6.    The  idea  is  felicitously  ex- 
pressed in  a  German  students*  drinking-song  : — 

"  Nippet  nicht,  wenn  Bacchus'  Quelle  fliesset, 
Aengstlich  an  des  volien  Bechers  Raud  ; 
Wer  das  Leben  tropfenweis'  geniesset, 
Hat  des  Lebens  Deutung  nie  tikanut." 

f  Byron's  Giaour, 


The  Motive  Power  of  the  Feelings,       415 

that  are  apt  to  arise  out  of  inspiring  enthusiasms,  rather 
than  be  content  with  the  dull  ease  of  a  placid  career. 

"  Sound,  sound  the  rlarion,  fill  the  fife. 
To  all  the  sensual  world  proclaim, 
One  crowded  hour  of  glorious  life 
Is  worth  an  age  without  a  name."* 

For  the  same  reason  man  finds  more  interest  in  a  brief 
period  of  the  great  historical  nations  with  all  their  stir 
and  strife  than  can  ever  be  felt  in  the  uneventful  records 
of  those  peoples  that  have  left  no  impress  on  the 
development  of  humanity. 

'•  Better  fifty  years  of  Europe  than  a  cycle  of  Cathay  ! '» 

Accordingly,  to  render  possible  a  more  exalted  course  of 
action,  men  adopt  various  means  for  cultivating  to  higher 
intensity   the   sentiments   by   which    such   a  course   is 
inspired.      This  is  the  happy  effect  that  we  seek  in  the 
companionship  of  sympathetic  minds ;    and  the  great 
religious  teachers  of  all  ages  are  never  weary  of  proclaim- 
ing that  acts  of  religion  have  no  significance  or  value 
except  in  cherishir  >  the  state  of  feeling  which  gives  a 
nobler  tone  to  life.    Of  course,  there  is  a  danger  that  the 
passionate  susceptibility,  which  leads  to  spiendid  deeds 
may  be  misdirected  to  meaner  ends.     Still,  without  its 
enthusiasms,  life  would  scarce  be  worth  living     To  the 
general  life  of  man  they  impart  the  charm  of 'romance, 
and  in  the  moral  life  particularly  they  are  indispensable 
o  heroic  virtue.     We  can  therefore  understand  why  in 
he  more  earnest  movements  of  religious  history,  modera- 
tion has  often  been  stigmatised,  not  indeed  as  implying 
positive  vice,  but  as  tending  to  cool  the  ardour  of  sent,? 


•s^ 


cott,  Old  Morlaliiy,  Chapter  xxxviii. 


4i6 


Psychohf^y. 


nient  necessary  to  reach  the  ideal  at  which  these  moue 
nieiits  aim. 

II.   nut  it  is  not  on  their  sensible  side  that  the  feclin-s 
are  of  chief  interest  in  the  (leveh,iHnent  of  the  mental 
l.fe.     VVe  have  already  seen  that  (cognition  and  enu,tion 
owe  their  complicated  developments  to  the  intellectual 
qualit.es,-the  associahility  and  comi.aral,ility,-of  oi.r 
sensations  ;  and  it  is  in  virtue  o(  iluvsc  c,ualities.  which 
have  been  summarily  described  as  forming  distinct  repre- 
sental,.hty,  that  the  feelings  contribute  to  the  develoi.nent 
ofvoht.on.     Considered  merely  as  sensible  i>henomena. 
He  feehngs  may  form  unredective  impulses  to  action  ; 
but  It  IS  only  by  bcmg  <iistinclly  represe.Uable  that  they 
can  form  intelligent  ends.     This  aspec:t  of  the  feelings. 
therefore,  alters  altogether  the  estimate  of  their  motive 
power  which  we  should  form  from  their  sensible  (pmlities 
It  values  a  feeling  not  only  while  it  lasts,  but  when  it  is 
afterwards  revived  in  memory  or  imagination  to  form  an 
object    of  intelligent    reHection.       It   appears    that    the 
d.stmct    representability  of  fedings    may    be   generally 
described  as  \n  direct  proportion  to  their  durability,  and 
therefore  in  inverse  proportion  to  their  intensity.     I-Yom 
this  It  follows  on  the  one  hand  that  the  calmer  feelings 
are  not  only  more  durable,  but  more  distinctly  revivable 
>.i  Idea     Both  of  these  facts  are  of  great  practical  in^port. 
. .  \\  e  may  well  at  times  be  struck  with  awe  at  the  flict 
that  feehngs,  which  for  the  moment  overpower  by  their  ' 
uuensity  all  other  impulses,  ca       ^  be  afterwards  repre- 
sented with  any  vividness.     The  reason  of  this  fact  has 
been  already  pointed  out  in  the  general  principle,  that  a 
feeling,  even  if  naturally  pleasurable,  passes,  by  its  excess 
the  limit  of  health,  and  becomes  destructive      The  fact 
finds  Its  illustration  in  all  departments  of  our  emotional 
lite.     There  are  many  sensations,  like  those  of  sicknes^ 


The  Motive  Power  of  the  Feelings.        417 

which  ahsohitely  ronlrol  our  condiirt  while  we  are  \.   iler 
their  power,  yet  leave  but  the  faintest  traces  in  irnagina- 
tion  and  memory.     Perhaps,  however,  the  most  startling 
instance  of  the  fact  under  consideration  is  to  he  found 
in  the  rapid  access  of  repentance  after  excess,  after  the 
inordinate  indulgence  of  any   passion.     Owing   to  the 
inverse  ratio  between   the  intensity  and   the  durability 
of  our    feelings,    the    i)ower   of    the   crin)inal    imi)ulse 
collai)ses  with  api)alling  suddenness;  and  in  conse(iuence 
of    the    inverse    ratio   of    intensity    to    rei)resentability, 
bemg   unable   to   fiuicken   the   dead   passion  into   the 
after-life  of  memory,  the  guilty  wretch  stands  aghast  at 
his  conduct,  and  cannot  now  realise  what  ever  induced 
him  to  act  as  he  has  done.     The  famous  scene,   with 
which  the  second  act  of  Macbeth  opens,  will  long  retain 
Its  terrible  charm  over  the  mind  from  the  truthfulness 
with  which   it  pictures  this  dread  revulsion  of  feeling. 
It  may  be  observed  that  a  more  pleasing  illustration  of 
the  same  revulsion  is  found  in  an  emotional  state  lesem- 
bling  the  nature  of  shame,  that  sometimes  follows  upon 
actions  done  under  the  influence  of  a  high  enthusiasm. 

2.  But  the  counterpart  of  this  fact  is  also  familiar  in 
human  life.  The  sources,  from  which  we  draw  the 
materials  for  happy  reflection  and  for  pleasing  construe- 
tions  of  the  fancy  in  after  years,  are  not,  as  a  rule,  the 
violent  excitements  of  our  sensibility,  but  those  ftel.i.^s 
which  are  of  a  calm  nature,  and  which  also  en.ure 
commonly  for  a  long  time.  This  fact,  however,  is  of 
interest,  not  only  as  pointing  to  the  perennial  sources 
of  human  happiness ;  it  points  equally  to  the  kind  of 
feelings  which  must  form  the  objects  oi  intelligent 
volition.  The  man,  whose  conduct  is  dictated  by  the 
most  intense  passion  of  the  moment,  lead  •  a  life  that  is 
ilesiilute  of  any  determinate  character,    Tg  attain  cua- 

ca 


4i8 


ts)'iho!o^. 


sisfcMry  of  rhnrarfcr  the  life  intist  he  guided  hy  an  ideal 
pliUi ;  hikI  an  ideal  plan  of  hfe  sii|)pi),ses,  not  merely  the 
impulses  that  pioeeed  from  iho  variahle  moods  of  the 
sensihilily,  but  motives  that  ean  ho  retained  permanently 
in  idea.  Sueh  motives.  W»wrv«[^  r»tir  r)e  found  only  in 
coiia«clio»    i\\\\  feelings  that  arc  Uibiinclly  rei^rcscnUblo. 


* 


i 


8 

£ 

i 
t 
a 

n 


Votmlary  Control  ovfr  Musclts,  ttc. 


4'9 


CHAPTER    1,1. 


™TRof' ovrl''''     "'"     ^"'"N    \RY     COM. 

T^HE  most  obvious  and  therefore  the  most  intclli. 
J.       gil-le   sphere   of  voli.ion    is    ,„u,,:„lar   acivity 
Ihc   r,alure  of  the  volitional   control   of  muscle  ha, 
been  part.ally  explained  in  the  opening  Chapter  of  .hi, 
i  art.     It  was  there  shown  that  n.nsclar  activity  i,  first 
stimulated  by  spontaneous  or  reflex  or  sensational  im- 
pulse,.       Ihe  muscular  activity,  originated  in   any  o( 
hese  ways,  excites  pleast.re  or  pain;  and  the  pleasant 
or  pau,ful  feelmg  excited  become,  accordingly  associated 
m  consciousness  «ith  the  activity  which  i,  it,  cause 
When  the  feehng  is  afterwards   represented,   it   recall, 
he  cause;  and  we  are  accordingly  moved  to  reproduce 
the  cause  m  order  to  the  reproduction  of  the  effect 

But  to  guard  against  mistake,  and  prepare  the  way  for 

further  developments  of  volition,  it  is  necessary  to  con- 

sider  the  nature  of  the   feelings  connected   with  the 

act.v.iy  of  the  muscles.     Muscular  sensation  is  merely 

a  pecuhar  mode  of  feeling  which,  though  distinguished 

n  quality  from  other  feelings,  is  not  a  consciousness  of 

the  muscles,  by  whose  action  it  is  excited.    Apart  from 

anatomical    study,    muscular   sensation   can   no  more 

reveal  the  structure,  or  even  the  existence,  of  m„s,  I.. 


•illl. 


ffef 


n  . 


420 


th 


Psychclogy. 


an  a  sound  can  tell  the  form  of  the  cochlea,  or  a 
colour  can  reveal  the  rods  and  cones  of  the  retina.  The 
volition,  therefore,  which  issues  in  muscular  contraction, 
is  not  directed  consciously  towards  the  muscles  contracted. 
I  will,  for  example,  to  write  certain  characters  on  the 
l)aper  before  me  with  the  y)en  which  I  hold  in  my  hand. 
I  am  unable,  without  consulting  an  anatomical  work,  to 
tell  precisely  what  muscles  must  be  called  into  play  in 
guiding  the  pen.  But  I  have  written  the  same  charac- 
ters a  countless  number  of  times  before.  After  scores  of 
somewhat  unsuccessful  efforts  in  school-days  I  have  hit 
upon  the  precise  muscular  contraction  required.  That 
precise  contraction  is  the  source  of  an  equally  definite 
muscular  sensation  ;  and  it  is  through  this  sensation 
alone  that  the  required  contraction  becomes  associated 
with  the  facts  of  my  conscious  life,  and  comes  within  the 
sphere  of  conscious  volition.  Accordingly  when  a 
familiar  act  is  represented  as  an  object  of  volition,  I  am 
able,  through  the  muscular  sensibility,  to  hit  upon  the 
muscular  contraction  necessary  to  the  accomplishment 
of  the  act.  If  the  act  is  still  unfamiliar, — if  it  is  one  the 
l)erforniance  of  which  still  requires  to  be  made  into  a 
habit  or  dexterity, — it  is  through  the  muscular  sensibility 
that  the  acquisition  is  directed.  From  general  use  of 
the  muscles  I  must  of  course  be  acquainted  roughly 
Aiih  the  limits  within  which  the  required  muscular 
exertion  lies.  1  can,  therefore,  hit  more  or  less  nearly 
on  the  precise  contractions.  It  is  here  that  the  vast 
differences  ap[)ear  between  individuals  in  regard  to  the 
^e^bibility  and  pliability  of  muscle.  Some  show  a  quick 
expertness,  rhat  seems  to  want  no  tuition,  in  finding  the 
exact  stroke  of  muscle  demanded.  For  such  nature  has 
formed  a  basis  for  proceeding  at  once  to  those  higher 
refinements,   by   which    ihey    may   excel    ail    ordinary 


Voluntary  Control  over  Muscles,  etc.      42, 

'^nl^t  '""."  ,"'  ^^"ieve.ents  of  genius.    O.hers, 
again   less  favoured  by  nattire,  never  succeed,  even  after 

nes:7,::rr°"'' '-  °^"^°"""«  "-'"-yaw.;::: 

It  is  important,  then,  to  bear  in  mind,  that  even  in 

voluntary  control  of  the   muscles,  volition    3  dTrec,  S 

n,med,ately,  no,  to  the  muscles  themselves,  bu,  to     e 

helte't:"'?'    '^   ""™'^^  ''"'°"-       '"   P-°i  g! 
therefore,  to  voluntary  control  o(  the  feelings,    here  is 

no   such  a  w,de  gap  in  the  evolution  of  will  I    ^ 
first  be  supposed.    In  controlling  the  muscles  themtelve, 
he   consciousness   is   directed   ,0   a   certain    mode   o 
f  e  ng     a  mode  of  feeling,  indeed,  connected  with  the 
niu  cular  mechan.sm  by  which  we  modify  the  externa! 
wo'H  but  a  mode  of  feeling  all  the  same.    Consc^        J 
the  transuion,  m  this  expansion  of  voluninry  power  i, 
in  strictness,   not  so  much  from  control  of  muscle  to 
control  of  feeling  as  from  controlling  one  mode  of  feeling 
to  the  control  of  another.  ° 

In  fact   there  is,   in   many,  if  „o,  i„   „ost,  of  the 
vdun  ary  acts  witich  control  the  feelings,  a  clos;  affini  y 

se  n  i     M      r"^    T'"'  '""""''"  '™^^"-"-    ^^'^  have 
een  m  the  Inyoduct,on  to  the  previous  Par.  of  this 

K.ok,  that  the  feehngs  are  in  m..ny  instances  associated 

wth  specfic  muscular  raovements  as  their  expression! 

1  his  assocatton,  ,t  was  further  observed,  is  so  close  a,  ' 

to  constitute  a  certain  dependence  of  the  feelings 'on 

their  expression  ;  so  that,   by  producing  an  exptessive 

movement,    the    associated    feeling    may   be    L   some 

measure  reinstated.     The  dependence,  indicated  in  thi! 

tact,  is,  however,  manifested  in  other  ways.    The  exnres 

sion  of  an  entoiion  is  connected  with  the  emotion  bv 

some   natural    law   or   laws,    in   whatever    manner  the      " 

connection  may  have  originated  :  and  -o  i.e-,— ..-  •■ 


422 


Psychoh^, 


Hi 
I* 


tendency  of  an  emotion,  when  unresisted,  is  to  find  vent 
'\\\  its  natural  expression.  lUit  this  tendency  tnay  he 
resisted,  at  least  in  those  cases  in  which  rxpression  is 
connected  with  the  voluntary  nuiscles.  We  cannot 
indeed  arrest  the  relaxation  of  the  intestinal  muscles 
often  brought  on  hy  violent  fear  ;  we  cannot  check  the 
quickened  heat  of  the  heart  which  emotional  excitement 
generally  [mnluccs,  or  restore  the  interrupted  rhythm  of 
the  circulation  which,  under  the  inllucnce  of  various 
feelings,  makes  the  colour  come  and  go  on  the  face. 
But  the  laugh  atul  the  frown,  the  start  of  surprise,  and 
the  numerous  gestures  which  torm  the  familiar  exi)res- 
sions  of  feeling,-  these  are  all  under  conscious  control. 
Now,  the  repression  of  these  movements  necessarily 
interferes  with  the  natural  play,  and  deadens  the  vivacity, 
of  emotion. 

In  fact  the  play  of  emotion, — its  indulgence, — consists 
in  the  inlluenco  whiih  it  exercises  over  the  conduct  of 
life  ;  antl  this  inllucnce  is  exhibited,  not  only  in  the 
general  human  expressions  of  emotion,  but  also  in  par- 
ticular acts  in  which  emotion  may  be  indulged  at  any 
moment.  The  real  cotitrol  of  emotion  consists  in  the 
repression  of  all  its  overt  manifestations.  The  enu)tional 
life  feeds  upon  its  overt  indulgencies,  and  without  them 
cannot  be  sustained.  Such  indulgencies  are  often  [)rivate, 
like  the  secret  fondling  of  objects  associated  with  any 
allection,  or  retired  acts  of  devotion.  There  is  nothing 
more  freipienlly  enjiiined  in  treatises  on  practical  religion 
than  the  necessity  of  such  private  acts  for  the  cultivation 
of  religious  feeling.  This  injunction  of  religious  teachers 
is  based  on  an  universal  principle  with  regard  to  tho 
culture  of  the  emotions,-  the  principle  that  any  emo- 
tional excitement  may  be  controllctl  by  keeping  in  check 
its  active   manifestations,   and   that   emotions   may   be 


F./«„/«^  Control  over  Muscles,  etc.       42J 

«'  ethical  s,,c™la,i.,„  ,„'  ,  '  ""''  "=  f^"^'-"  "'Vi^-n, 
-n  the  problem.  F„r  wJ  e  In  T  "'  "'  "■'™--"'"« 
seek,   the   chief  Rood   o\  ""  '-1"' "'•■•■^"HMn 

-o.io„a...i.Ca:;^tir:n;:rr.''^ 

Chica.   U.eon-os  hoM  .  '    ,  ';T  V'i'r  "'""7"' 

nilional  conduct  is  wirmnd  n,  '^'■'  '"  "'"''''• 

f;.«l.er  than  .0  point  out  'tt  r,  ^    I!  ^i';,:';^"'^'^' 
"«y  agree  in  rccognisinR  the  u-v,!,,  ? ,  ^'''^TcT'-nccs, 

cn.otion,  can    be'volunta    ,  '  1  :     j'"-';:"  f  ^^  "•^"  "- 

<s— vt^ird'S^rc^oTrr^TT 

our  daily  life.  IJut  it  rcmLs  a  "n  I^  T'"'"  'u 
an  account  exhausts  all  that  can  C'o  '  "  "",'" 
It  may  be  true  that  fcelinir  is  n,,  " '"""■"'• 

«.way,  bound  up  „itb  sZ^  ^^s^  a  ll^r''  """ 
't  IS  a  very  simple  task  of  n|«,  !,"""'"'  >'<^' 
«.ough.  the  feeling  from  it.Lt'™  n  i^''^'^^  "" 
W.vablc,  therefore,  that  .hou.h  .1'  f!;,'  ''"'"•■  '""■ 

repressed  by  restraining  tl,"   out     nlnT   '""■  ""'^'"^ 
it  is  possible  to  direct  elni  "''""felations,  yet 

tl-emselves  witho  e  ex  "Ho",  '"°"  '"  '""  '"'""^-^ 
VVhethe,  this  is  actuali;  d  e  cale  o^:  '":""^^'-^'='""-- 
wlueh  brings  us  to  the  uiti  ,n,  ,  ,         '  '''  •''  '''"•■=^""'> 

.l>e  discusstn  of  thi     ,r<^     '    V""  '^  "'  "'^  -»•     I" 

p..choio,istsrefujrt:::r^:,:::':^^-.-- 


1 


iiUJi 


424 


Psychology, 


control  beyond  the  muscular  system;  and  to  such  the 
mmos'-  that  ran  be  meant  by  volition  is  the  conscious 
anticipation  of  a  muscular  movement  that  is  about  to  be 
felt  by  us.  Whether  this  is  a  Cv  mplete  account  of  the 
limits  of  thj  will,  must  be  discussed  in  the  seciuel.  Mean- 
while, as  preparatory  to  that  discussion,  it  is  important  to 
notice  another  extension  of  voluntary  control. 

As  there  is  a  certain  control  exercised  over  the  feelinijs. 
so  we  can  also,  in  a  certain  sense,  cf)ntrol  the  thoughts. 
The  explanation  of  this  act  has  been  prepared  in  discus- 
smg  the  Secondary  Laws  of  Suggestion  *  and  the  nature 
of  attention. t  It  was  then  shown  that,  while  the  pheno- 
mena before  consciousness  at  any  moment  are  multifa- 
rious, the  consciousness  is  unequally  distributed  over 
them.  While  the  majority  of  these  phenomena  attract 
comparatively  little  notice,  on  some,  perhaps  only  on  one, 
the  consciousness  may  be  concentrated  either  by  an  in- 
voluntary  imi)ulse  of  feeling  or  by  voluntary  tffort.  'I'his 
concentration  of  consciousness  controls  our  thoughtt,  not 
only  for  the  moment,  but  also  (or  the  moments  immedi- 
ately following.  For  it  makes  the  thoughts,  on  which 
the  consciousness  is  concentrated,  more  powerfully  sug- 
gestive than  the  rest,  and  consequently  determines  the 
line  in  which  the  current  of  thought  will  flow.  It  is  this 
straining,  this  attention  of  the  mind,  that  renders  possible 
voluntary  recollection,  study,  consecutive  thinking.  Let 
us  look  at  the  nature  of  the  act  more  closely. 

In  some  instances,  at  least,  the  act  obviously  resembles 
that  of  controlling  the  feelings  by  restraint  of  iheir  out- 
ward manifestations.  When  the  object  of  thought  is  a 
body  actually  present  to  sense,  then  attention  to  it  in- 


•  Book  i.,  Part  ii.,  Cliapler  i.,  §  2, 
i  Uook  ii.,  Par:  i.,  Chapter  ii.,  %  i. 


Voluntary  Control  over  Muscles,  etc.        425 

volve,  some  muscular  ac,,_,he  fixing  of  the  eye,,  ,he 
l.re.thess  l,sten,ng,  the  n.anipulation  of  a  surface    , he 
smff  of  cffl„v,,.,  or  some  similar  action.     Even  whe.;    he 
ol.je,-,  ,s  one  of  abstract  thotijht,  the  concentration  of 
c^c^usncss   upon  it  i,„p,ies,  as  already  expiaine,].. 
such  a  tenston  of  our  limited  powers  as  to  arrest  activity 
■n   other   dtrections.      Unless   a   voluntary   restraint   I 
exercised  over  the  restless  muscular  movement  by  which 
bodily  l,fe  ,s  in  health  usually  characterised,   the  con 
saousness  would  be  so  distracted   by  the  innumerable 
chanstng  phenomena  brought  within  its  ken  that  atten- 
t.on  would  be  unpossible.     The  enforced  quiet  of  the 
muscular  organism  produces  a  state  of  monotony  in  re- 
gard to  outward  impressions,  and  deadens  thereby  their 
power  of  sUn,ulation.     But  this  quiet  is,  of  course,  en- 
forced  by  the  voluntary  control  of  the  muscles;  and  it 
cannot,  therefore,  be  doubted  that  attention,  at  leas,  in 
us  more  definite  forms,  frequently,_it  may  be  usually  or 
even  always.-miplies  muscular  restraint.     But  here  as 
•n  regard  to  the  voluntary  control  of  the  feelings,  'the 
questiot,   arises,    whether  in  recognising  this  muscular 
estraint  vve  have  disclosed  the  whole  nature  of  the  voli 
tions  which  direct  the  course  of  our  thoughts.     This 

•  nr/'n'  '*  P™P"'^  discussed  except'by  entering 
upon  the  problem  reserved  for  the  concluding  chapter 


>  li  H 

i  1 


II 


426 


Psychology, 


CHAPTER    IV. 


i 


FREEDOM   OF  VOLITION. 

THE  problem  of  this  chapter  is  essentially  identical 
with  those  ultimate  problems  regarding  the  genera) 
nature  of  knowledge,  which  were  discussed  in  the  sixth 
chapter  of  the  first  Part  of  this  Book  ;  and,  therefore, 
little  remains  to  be  done  but  to  explain  the  bearing  upon 
this  problem  of  the  principles  involved  in  the  previous 
discussion. 

At  the  outset  it  may  be  worth  while   to  recall  the 
definition  of  voluntary  action  in  the  first  chapter  of  this 
Part.      It  was  there  shown   that  many  so-c  nlled  actions 
are   due   to  unreflecting   impulses,   and    thnt   the   term 
motive  is  very  often  used  for  impulses  of  this  kind.     On 
the  other  hand,  this  term  is  also  frequently  aj^plied  to  the 
conscious  purpose,  the  end  which  we  have  in  view  when 
we  act.      It  is  only  actions  of  the  latter  class  that  are 
voluntary.      A  volition  is   therefore  an  act  of  a  person 
who  knows  what  he  is  doing,  and  who,  in  knowing  what 
he  does,  knows  the  end  which  his  action  is  adapted  to 
attain.       Now,  it  is  not  maintained  that  human  actions 
are  generally  of  this  voluntary  sort.     On  the  contrary,  it 
may  be  admitted  that  the  majority  of  actions,— all  the 
actions  which  make  up  the  routine  of  daily  life,— are  of 
the   mechanical   type,   even   though   they   may  be   the 
result  of  habits  voluntarily  formed,  and  may  therefore 


Freedom  of  Volition. 


427 

cominue  subject  to  voluntary  restraint       lu       • 

c  ed  by  tbe  sv«,.m«  ^1  ,   "^''"^'"'"-      Man  .s  enc  r- 

-isinal  con    i     ,0 ,      "      ^'V""'  ''"'"^''  ''^  '^-'>  -  '"^ 
'.is  repeal  :■  sHaM     "  '"'•"""'  '^  "'^'"  '" 

^"e;not^e.en.:^,;7:;,tr::/:;:"-''-- ■' 

'i"ed  to  be  catd  v<    ,on?  T  "'-'V"""  "'^^  ^"■ 
consciously  seeks  to   1!  h    ^    ^  '"  *'"'^''  "'^  '•eent 

i.  leaves  <  ,   of  a  coum  an'd""""  ^'^      ^^'^''^'""«"'- 
•"-••-ningless  fiction    hT'  7^  "''^  '^""'  "''"^'  '''  " 

-.edt^be4r;:ix:::-^^^^^^^^^^ 

act    free   from   fh»    ;  n  ^  >s,  a  power  to 

.wbetbers::HVtrrbrc,:,Lr;"'^^  """'"- 

end  wl,id,  "L  ,;  7  "  ""'""-^  "°  '"'^"i«ence  of  ,l,e 
l-cdon,  of  he  i  1  tifr''"  . '"  •'"="""""-^''-  On  tbe 
'Leorics,  or  ^etV:, ''ber-r  ""'^  ''""^''  "--  =>-  two 

'■ette^^rtc'.';:!;"?"'"^.  t'''""'°"  '"'y  ^  -^-n 

-s-ricted,      dZn,,'    "''f    '^-^   "•■™    volition    is 

;r"o.i..encet::or::^z:r:r,src^r 

c^-rned.  According  to  this  law  .,  ^-"^^^'^^y  '^  con- 
^'l>->u.e.y  detern,in:d  b  t  Jr^ntrel^'r'""""  " 
"'  l;l.eno„,ena ;  and  consequently  every  cto'nr""" 
'■'•'  e.ves   Its   definite   character    from     h  I '""" 

-..ecedent  circumstances  in  wbiclTw     H  ""'"'^<^'""='y 
'-derstood  that  nn.ecedem  T  '^°"''  "  ''^'"S 

.^e  condition  of  theTn:b::,7:::ra:rc'"'^ 

d.i.on  of  his  environment.      The   manif,!  '" 

:::  ^^.t^  -^'^  -'-  their  Juitirusr ::  ;: 

ner.ou.  .yscen. :  these  are  followed  by  appropriate 


4^8 


PsVi/w/o^, 


m 


slates  of  rons.>ioiisnoss,  feelings,  cognitions,  desires  ; 
aiul  the  |)l)en()n»cna,  which  we  call  vohtions,  are  merely 
liiMhoi  links  in  this  ehain.  livery  volition,  therefore, 
on  this  theory,  is  reganleii  simply  as  an  event  in  lime| 
wholly  determined,  like  any  other  event,  by  events 
preieding. 

This  has  heen  commonly  called,  in  former  times,  the 
theory  of  Necessity,  ami  its  supporters  Necessitarians. 
Recent  advocates  of  the  theory,  however,  generally 
object  to  the  term  Necessity,  as  implying  compm..o;i 
without  consent,  whereas  the  theory  regards  the  consent 
of  the  agent  as  one  of  the  conditions  of  a  voluntary 
action.  On  this  account  Determinism  has  been  sug- 
gested, and  is  now  generally  adoiUed,  as  an  ai)i)ropriate 
designation  of  the  theory. 

Though  a  certain  form  of  Determinism  has  often  been 
maintained  by  theologians  <  '  the  Augustinian  and  Calvin- 
istic  schools,  yet  the  doctrine  lends  at  the  i)resent  day  to 
ally  itself  wit.,  that  general  theory  of  man's  origin,  which 
regards  him  as,  in  nniul  and  body  alike,  merely  the  last 
evolution  of  t>rganic  nature  on  our  planed.     According  to 
this  view  man's  consciousness  is  simply  the  product  of 
the  forces  in  his  environment  acting  on  his  complicated 
sensibility,  and  of  that  sensibility  reacting  on  the  environ- 
ineut.      His  consciousness,  therefore,  stands  related  to 
other  phenomena  precisely  as  these  are  related  to  each 
other,  each  being  acteil  u[H)n  by  the  rest,  and  reacting 
upon  them,  so  that  all  are  absolutely  ileterminetl  by  this 
reciprocity  of  action.      On  this  view  man's  self  is  not  a 
real  unity,  forming  by  its  unifying  power,  out  of  an  unin- 
telligible multiplicity  of  sensations,  an  intelligible  cosmos; 
it  is  a  mere  name  for  a  factitious  aggregate  of  associated 
mental  states.      The  only  actual  self  is  the  sum  of  feelings 
»f  which  we  are  conscious  at  any  moment;  and  the  actual 


Fienlom  of  Volition.  ^2n 

nc\r  thcr,.A,ro,  .lim-rn  „i,|,  i|,c  v„ri;,tion  of  our  f,...|i„.,. 

SuHn,s,.|cvi,ln,,ly,,n,.,sn,,  i,,,,.||iKil,|,..s,.,,r...,,f,,,,y 
"'"vily  (hut   ,s   „„i   ,.l..s„l„icly  ,lcti-r,„i„c,l    l,y  ,uu,n,l 

II.  Tl,,.  „,.p„si,c  llir„ry,  in;m,l,,i„i„^,  ll,.-,l  vditi,,,,  i„ 
'"  as  cm.nli.,1  ..h,,r.„.|cr  free  fr.rn,  ,l,e  ,le>cT,n„„„,nns  ,.C 
"■'lural  law,  ,s  s|,„kcn  «f  a»  ll,c  ,lo.:tri„e <,f  l.ih.riy,  „r  of 

.i"«l    l,,l„.r,anan,s.      This   ,l,„,,ine   ,:,„„cn,ls,   in    „„c 
'■nn  „r  a,„„|„.r,   ,l,a,   il,.rc.  is  a„  csscuial  .liffcrcce 
-iwm,   h„M,aM   v„li,i„„s  an,]  cuhcT  evcnis,  an.l   that 
llK.-.r  diaraclcr  ,s  „ol  ,„  1,^  interprets,  like  tl.at  of  other 
.-■va,  s,  sole  y  hy  referrinK  lo  the anteedcnt  eireinnstan.e., 
>•'  wh,eh   they  were  clone.      This  theory  ten.ls  to  ally 
"sel     at    the    present    ,lay    with    that   Transeen.lental 
Meahsn.,  wln,:h  refnse,  to  aoeept  ICmpirieal  Kvolnlionisin 
as  a  <on,plele  solution  of  the  prohlen,  of  man's  nature 
lie    .loetrine   of    r.iherty   insists    on    the    essential 
.s  n.e  ,<,n  hetween  the  realiiy,  tne  ,„,ity,  of  the  self  and 
"^•t   of  ol,je,:ts.       The   noiselves,    that    make   up   the 
"l.jcet.vc  worhl,  have  no  real  point  of  umty,  no  self- 
...od;  so  that  fron,   themselves  nothing  can  originate, 
-a  the  self  ,s  a  real  self,  a  real  <:en,re  of  unity,  hon, 
«I"H.  radute  all  t1,o  unifying  functions  of  in,ellig,.,Ke 
•.l»t  form  ,nto  inlelligihlc  onler  the  world  of  sense     The 
self,   therefore,   stan.ls  related  to  the  notselves   of  the 
olyoetive  world,  not  sintply  as  those  arc  related  to  ea,  h 
"il.er;  ,t  is  coniradisii„g„ished  from  the  whole  of  them 
"'  ^1  "ay,  ,n  which  each  is  not  contradistinguished  from 
.e  others,  as  the  intelligent   interpreter   without  which 
l.cy  could  form  no  intelligihle  system.      This  system  i, 
formed  of  parts  which  are  construed  as  hohling  relation 
o>  rectprocal  causality  ;  but  the  intelligence,  that  con. 
sirues  the  system,  is  not  .simply  one  of  the  parts,  whose 


m 


430 


Psychology. 


nctmn   Is  al)soIi,tely  determined   by  the  action  of  the 

As  we  hnve  seen  in  the  prcviou,  discssion  on  self. 

cnnscousness,  „  ,s  ,hh  .lisiincion  of  self  from  Ihe  whole 

.".verse  of  „„,.,ves,  ....  „|„„e  renders  in.elli^iMe" 

g.m,on  o    .„„.  .,„i„e,se.     „  is  „,so  ,he  independence 

self  on  the  umvers,:  of  notselves,  ,ha.  alone  rend,  r, 

.n  eihg.ble  „s  volun.ar)  action  on  that  universe.     Fo   a 

vol,.,on  ,s  not  nn  act,   ,o  which  I  am  i„,pelled   by  the 

..nture    .t  ,s  an  a,-t,  n,   which  I  consciously  set  before 
.nyselfanend,  and  delermine  n.yself  towards  its  attai" 
ment.      1  he  very  natur,;  of  volition,  therefore,  would  be 
contradicted  by  a  description  of  it  in  terms  whi  h  broug 
It  under  the  category  of  causality  ^ 

This  freedom  of  the  self  from  determination  by  the 
wor  d  of  objects  is  the  fact  vhich  alone  explains,  widto 
xpbmmg  away,  ,he  consciousness,  that  Ihere  'is  witl^: 
us  a  centre  of  conscious  activity  which  is,  in  the  last 
'esort,  impregnable  by  any  assaults  of  n,ere  fo,  -e  You 
may  apply  to  my  organisn,  superior  forces  of  organic  or 
morgamc  bodies,  and  compel  i,  ,o  act  as  you  wish.    You 

.'n'ld::'  7,  T  ""'"'^  '"'"'-^'"^"'^ ''  ^°-  '^i^p- 

.n  order  to  bend  me  to  your  ,.urpose;  you  may  te„,„t 
me  with  the  n,ost  bewitching  delights  of  sense,  or  sc  re 
...e  with  Its  n,ost  frightful  agonies.  You  may  even  by 
."genuity  of  torture,  so  shatter  my  nervous  system  aL  to 
prevent  me  front  carrying  out  into  the  world  cLense  the 
dchberate  resolutions  of  myself.  But  there  is  one  thin- 
which  mere  force,-force  separated  from  reason.-cannol 
do ;  It  cannot  compel  mc.  i— v«iiuoi 


Conclusion. 


431 


CHAPTER    V. 


COxVCLUSION. 

'yilE  preceding  discussions,  brief  thour^h  they  are  in 
1     compunson  with  those  of  n.ore  ehU)orate  treatises 
n^Y  yet  be  lelt  to  bo  incomplete  without  a  summary  of 
the.r  general   results.       Psychology   being  the   science 
of  man  a  mental  life,  its  problems  present  not  only  the 
J';terest^  of    scientiHc    questions    in    general,    but    the 
higher  interest  of  those  questions  which  bear  specially 
upon  man's  nature,  his  origin  and  his  destiny.     These 
q..est.ons,  in    their  essential  significance,  cannot  bo  an- 
proached  except  through  the  path  of  man's  mer.tal  life  • 
It  18  this  that  at  once  creates  their  perplexity,  and  opens 
the  way  to  their  solution.     Moreover,  the  mental  lite  of 
man,  involving  the  problem,  of  his  essential  nature  and 
ongin  and  destiny,  involves  also  the  problems    of    the 
nature  and  origin  and  destiny  of  all  things.     For,  if  these 
I>n>l.loms  can  be  solved  at  all,  the  solution  can  be  reached 
only  by  the  nature  of  things  being  revealed  to  the  human 
mind,  and  that  can  be  revealed  only  under  the  conditions 
to  which  psychology  shows  that  the  human  mind  is  sub^ 
ject;  while,   even  if    the  essential  nature  of    thin.rs  be 
unknowable,  it  can  be  shown  to  be  so  only  by  an  Tnaly. 
BIS  of  the  conditions  of  knowledge,  such  as  is  furnished 
by  the  psychologist. 


432 


Psychology. 


,1,, 


1 


^ 


The  mental  life  of  man,  as  we  have  seen  at  the  outset, 
is  (listin^ruished  from  other  i>hcnomon!i  by  the  conscicus- 
ness  with  which  it  is  accomi)ani(!<I.     It  is  not  necessary 
to  discuss  whether  the  so-called  mental  life  of  the  lower 
animals  is  likewise  characterized  by  this  accompaniment, 
whether  any  of  these  can  ever  consciously  think  within 
itself,  "/feel  pleased  or  pained,  /know  this  object  as 
distinct  from  that,  /will  direct  my  action  so  as  to  attain 
this  or  that  end."     Such  consciousness  forms  the  essential 
feature  of  man's  mental  life,  and  forms  also  Me  fact  which 
requires  explanation  in  any  theory  of  man's  nature  and 
origin  and  destiny.     For  it  is  obvious  that  any  such  theory 
IS  called  to  explain  mainly,  how  man  came  to  conscious 
activity,  and  what  is  the  function  which  such  an  activity 
implies  in  the  universe.     Now,  as  we  have  seen  more 
than  once,  the  fact  of  consciousness  presents,  on  the  face 
of  it,  features  which  prevent  us  from  treating  it  simply 
as  one  among  the  manifold  phenomena  of  nature,  as  if  it 
held  the  same  relation  to  these  which  they  hold  to  one 
another.      This   distinction   is   more   or   less   explicitly 
acknowledged  by  all.     Even  if  conscious  phenomena  are 
subjected  to  the  same  methods  of  scientific  treatment  as 
the  phenomena  of  nature  in  general,  they  are  yet  recog- 
nized as  forming  a  group  by  themselves,  differentiated 
by  their   distinctive    characteristic  from   all  phenomena 
which  are  not  accompanied  by  consciousness. 

The  relation,  therefore,  in  which  the  phenomena  of 
consciousness  stand  to  other  phenomena  —  or,  briefly,  the 
connection  of  mind  and  matter,  of  soul  and  body  —  has 
long  been  regarded  as  invested  with  a  peculiar  mystery, 
a  diUiculty  of  being  scientifically  comprehended,  other 
and  oreater  than  any  difficulty  which  science  encounters 
in  comprehending  the  mutual  relations  of  material  phe- 
nomena.    Accordingly,  the  history  of  philosophy  reveal- 


Conclusion. 


433 


various  theories  on  the  rehition  of  mind  and  matter  ;  and 
these  theories  are  in  fact,  merely  particuhir  |,ha.s(,s  <,f  iluj 
views  hehl  on  the  fundamental  problems  of  human  knowl- 
edge. 

Ono  theory  may  be  said  to  cut,  rather  than  to  untie, 
the  knot  of  the  problem.     It  maintains  that  tliere  is  in' 
reality  no  conneetion  whatever  between  the  phenomena 
of  mental  life  and  those  of  the  material  world.     The  two 
classes  of  phenomena  are  conceived  as  runn- ,  ..  in  p  ruliel 
currents,  in  which  certain  phenomena  of  ou'e  class  aro 
found   to    be    uniformly   contemporan-^ous  with    certain 
phenomena  of  the  other;    but  this  uniform  co-existence 
of  phenomena  in  the  two  classes  implies  nothing  more 
than  concurrence  in  time.     Thus  the  rvA  is  never  really 
intluenced  by  the  movements  of  the  mr>  rial  world,  nor 
are  these  movements  ever  really  modifie  '  by  the  efforts 
of  the  mind.     Sometimes,  indeed,  a  physical  movement, 
such   as   a  nervous  vibration,  is  followed  by  a  feeling, 
while  a  conscious  volition,  is  followed  by  a  bodily  move- 
ment.    But  in  such  cases  the  one  phenomenon  is  merely 
a  concomitant   of   the   other;    neither   can    be    said  to 
exert  upon  the  other  any  real  influence. 

This  theory,  though  propounded  in  earlier  times,  fnnn-l 
its  fullest  development  in  the  speculations  of  Descartes 
J>ud  of  his  school,  especially  of  Geulincx.  It  has  aLo 
been  associated  with  variors  theological  doctrines,  which 
it  is  unnecessary  here  to  discuss.  At  the  present  day 
the  theory  finds  a  more  or  less  exolicit  support  from 
some  psychologists,  who  look  upon  all  the  overt  acts  of 
life  in  general,  and  of  human  life  in  particular,  as  bein- 
scientifically  comprehensible  without  ascribing  to  con''- 
sciousness  any  real  influence  in  determining  thlir  course. 
The  purport  of  this  theory  may,  perhaps,  be  best  underi 
stood  '        '  •  -       -- 


by  taking  any  familiar  act,  and  tryino-  to 


iiHuHixid 


434 


Psychology. 


how  it  wou!d  require  to  be  conceived.     Suppose,  tlien   a 
hu^an  be..g,  i,.  ,v,.„3e  organi™  a  ..orbid  proves:  beg";: 
If  the  process  is  not  in  tlie  nerve-tissues  tliemselves  it 
wm  attack  theo,  by  and  by,  and   send  a  tbrill    .rtbe 
b  a,„      lieact,„g  from  this  excitement,  the  brain  sends  a 
stimulus  along  the   motor-uerves,  sets  the  limbs  of  the 
pat,ent   „,   action,   and    causes   him   to   move    towards 
e  residence  of  his  medical  adviser.     There  the  vocal 
organs  of  the  patient  are  excited  to  activity,  and  produce 
vibrations  of  the  air,  which  strike  .p„n  'L  JTZ 
doctor,  who  IS  led  in  his  turn  to  move  the  organs  of  his 
voice,  and  probably  also  to  move  his  fingers  ftr  the  pur- 
pose  of  writing  out  a  prescription.     The  prescription  is 
then  taken  to  an  apothecary,  and  made  up,  and  ultimately 
administered   to   the   patient.      Now,  according  to  the 
th  ory  of  Descartes,  all  this  would  go  on  precisely  as  it 
ac  ually  happens,   even  if    there   were    no  feelfng  or 
hough   either  in  the  patient  or  in  his  medical  advFser; 
that  IS  to  say,  the  bodily  actions  are  entirely  independen 
of  the  conscious  mental  actions,  and  entirely  unaffected 
by  hem.     T^is  surely  obvious,  however,  that  the  efficient 
fac  or  in  such  a  series  of  actions  is  the  conscious  suffering 
of  the  patient :  apart  from  his  painful  thoughts  and  feel-    ' 
ings  there  would  be  no  motive  to  action  at  all. 
_    But  this  theory  may  bo  tested  in  another  way.     How 
.s  the  origin  of  pleasure  and  pain  to  be  explained  from 
ll.e  standpoint  of  modern  evolutionism?    It  must  be 
supposed  that  consciou.  feelings  of  pleasure  a,„l  pain 
when  first  experienced,  gave  to  the  animal  that  experi- 
e,.ced  them  a  certain  advantage  over  others.     If  [hey 
™l  been  of  no  advantage,  they  would  soon  have  vanished 
f.om  the  universe  as  mere  Imm  naturae  that  fulfil  no 
function      But  the  fact  is,  that  pleasure  and  pain  have 
rsmaiued  through  innumerable  generations  among    he 


Conclusion,  ^^- 

most  prominent  phenomena  of  life,  and  their  continuance 
imphes  that  they  fulfil  some  function,  that  they  are  of 
some  advantage  to  living  beings.  But  they  can  give  this 
advantage  only  if  they  have  Some  causal  efficiency,  and 
therefore  the  conscious  feelings  of  sentient  beings  must 
Have  some  influence  upon  their  life. 

Another  theory  might  likewise  be  described  as  simply 
a  rude  cleaving  of  the  knot,  inasmuch  as  it  maintaina 
that  there  is  no  fundamental   difference   between   con- 
^ciousness   and  other   phenomena,  so  that  it   must    be 
explained  by  the  same  scientific  concepts  which  interpret 
the   others.      On   this   theory   conscious   activities    are 
simply  phenomena  of  nature,  produced  by  processes  of 
natural  causation  like  the   phenomena   of   the  material 
world.    This  :.  the  psychological  and  philosophical  system 
known  as  materialism;  that  is  to  say,  it  maintains  that 
all  reality  IS,  m  the  last  ai-alysis,  reducible  to  matter  and 
motion  c^  matter.     This  system  is  commonly  interpreted 
at  the  present  day  by  an  hypothesis  about  the  constitution 
of  matter  which  conceives  it  as  being  composed  of  exceed- 
mgly  minute  and  ultimately  indivisible  particles  -  atoms 
According  to   this  hypothesis,  every  real   event  in  the 
universe  must  be  interpreted  as  a  movement  of  atoms, 
either  separately  or  in  those  larger  or  smaller  masses  into 
which  they  are  combined ;  and  the  task  of  science  is  com- 
pleted  when  it  succeeds  in  making  such  an  interpretation. 
Now,  th,s  IS  not  the  place  to  inquire  whether  the  phe- 
nomena  of  the  material  world  itself  can  be  interpreted 
mtelhgibly  on  such  an  hypothesis.     To  the  philosophical 
physicist  or  chemist  or  bblogist  it  will  appear  a  very 
obvious  question,  whether  the  facts,  which  he  observes, 
are   mtelhgibly   or  coL^pletely   explained    as   implying 
merely  that  some  atoms  or  molecules  or  masses  .1  matter 
nave  chanoporl  rtn  oi./»  «i. .•    _  .1    .         ,     . 


have  changed  or  are  changing  the 


ir  relativ 


436 


Psychology. 


space.       Such  questions,  though  indirectly,  are  not  neccg- 
sanly  forced  on  the  psychologist.     For  him  the  problem 
18,  whether,  even  if  the  facts  of  material  nature  imply 
liothmg  but  matter  and  its  motion,  the  facts  of    man'a 
conscious  life  admit  of  being  explained  in  the  same  terms 
On  this  point  fortunately  little  more  is  required  than 
that  the  student  should  clearly  present  to  his  thought  the 
meaning  of  the  question  raised.     Almost  every  attribute 
that  can  be  predicted  of  a  thing  as  existing  and  moving 
in  space,  is  unthinkable  in  application  to  the  thoughts 
and   feelings   of  a  self-conscious    being.     Even  granted 
that  the  impact  of  external  agencies  upon  our  organism, 
and  the  activities  which  they  set  up  in  the  nervous  svstem, 
thrilling  into  the  most  secret  chambers  of  the  brain,  may 
all  be  explained  as  movements;  yet,  whenever  you  pass 
from  the  last  thrill  in  the  molecules  of  the  brain  to  the 
activities  of  conscious  life,  you  enter  upon  a  region  where 
the  familiar  landmarks  of  space  and  matter,  of  atoms  and 
motion,  are   no  longer   to   be    discerned,  and  therefore 
intelligei  re  must  seek  direction  from  a  totally  different 
order  of  i -.cepts.     Accordingly,  in  the  common  thoughts 
ot  men,  as  interpreted  in  their  ordinary  language,  and  in 
the  more  exact  thought  of  science  and  philosophy,  there 
has   always   been  recognized  a  disH.nction    between  the 
internal   life   of   consciousness  and  the    external   world 
which  renders  it  impossible  to  represent  the  former  as 
reducible   to    the   same  order   of  facts  with   the  latter. 
"  Ihe  passage  from  the  physics  of  the  brain  to  the  corres- 
ponding facts  of  consciousness  is,"  says  Professor  Tyn- 
tJa]l,t  '^  unthinkable.    Granted  that  a  definite  thought  and 

thl  al,;^"  ^'^TT^^  ""^  '^''  *^"''*'°"  ^  prominent  place  mast  bTgi^o 
the  able  work  of  Mr.  J.  B.  Stallo.  -The  Concepts  and  Theorus  of  Modem 
rhystcs,"  in  the  International  Scientific  Series 

mlt'InlT''"  '^»  ^"''P'  *"^  ^''°'*  ^^  ^''^^""fl"  Materialism  In  "Frag, 
tnents  of  Science,"  p.  131.  «' 


Conclusion. 


437 


a  definite  molecular  action  of  the  brain  occur  simultane- 
ously;  we  do   not  possess   the   intellectual   organ,  nor 
apparently   any   rudiment  of   the   organ,   which    would 
enable  us  to  pass,  by  a  process  of  reasoning  frora  the  one 
to  the  other.     They  appear  together,  but  we  do  not  Know 
why.     Were  our  minds  and  senses  so  expanded,  strength- 
ened and  illuminated  as  to  enable  us  to  see  and  feel  the 
very  molecules  of  the  brain  ;  were  we  capable  of  follow- 
ing all  their  motions,  all  their  groupings,  all  their  elec< 
trical  discharges,  if  such  there  be ;  and  were  we  intimately 
acquainted  with  the  corresponding  thoughts  and  feelings, 
we  should  be  as  far  as  ever  from   the  solution  of  the 
problem,    'How  are  these  physical  processes  connected 
with  the  facts  ^.f  consciousness?'     The  chasm  between 
the  two  classes  of  phenomena  would  still  remain  intel- 
lectually impassable."     In  these  words  Dr.  Tyndall  has 
simply   expressed    the   conviction    of   every   compf    nt 
thinker  who  has  considered  the  subject. 

It  is  thus  acknowledged  that  it  is  impossible  to  find 
any  intelligible  interpretation  of  mind  in  terms  of  matter. 
On   the   other   hand,  is   there  any  impossibility  in  the 
opposite  procedure  which  takes  mind  with  its  concepts  as 
the  starting-point,  and  interprets  the  material  world  by 
these  ?     Such  an  interpretation  would  simply  mean  the 
discovery  of  a  reason  in   every  material  thing,  such  a 
comprehension  of  material  realities  as  would  imply  that 
they  are  all  harmonious  parts  of   one  rational    system. 
Now,  it  must  be  obvious,  on  a  moment's  reflection,  that 
such  a  comprehension  or  interpretation  of  the  material 
world  is  nothing  but  the  avowed  object  of  all  science. 
As  already  stateJ;*  scientific    effort  would   be   at  once 
paralyzed  by  the  suspicion,  that  ihere  is  any  factor  of 
knowledge  which,  in  the  last   analysis,  may  be  a  surd 
•Above,  p.  229. 


\ 


438 


Psychology, 


quantity,  incapable   of   being  brou-ht   into   intelligible 
relutioh  with  the  general  system  of  thought. 

The  obvious  inference  from  all  this  ts,  that  the  uni- 
verse, as  intelligibly  interpreted,  is  the  construction  of 
an  Universal    Intelligence.     To  evade    this    conclusion, 
however,  a  conception  is  sometimes  adopted,  which,  while 
implied  in  a  good  deal  of  earlier  speculation,  has  become 
perfectly  explicit  in  a  prominent  school  of  thought  at  the 
present  day.     According  to  this  conception,  the  universe, 
80  far  as  known  to  us,  indeed,  is  an  intelligible   system  ; 
but,  as  such,  it  is  merely  a  construction  of  human  in- 
telligence ;    what  it  is,  apart  from  the  construction  we 
put  upon,  it,  never  can  be  known.      Man,  therefore,  is 
doomed  forever  to  hopeless  ignorance  regarding  the  real 
nature  of  the  universe  in  which  he  lives :  what  he  takes 
for  facts  with  an  independent  reality  are  merely  fictions 
of  his  own  mind  : 

"  Rerumque  ignarus  imagine  gaudet." 
Now,  in  order  to  determine  whether  our  knowledge 
reveals  to  us  realities,  or  merely  appearances  about  which 
we  can  never  know  what  they  represent,  two  questions 
require  to  be  considered:  We  must,  first  of  all,  decide 
what  is  meant  by  knowing  anything ;  and,  in  the  second 
place,  we  must  define  the  object  about  which  we  wish  to 
find  out  whether  it  can  be  known  or  not. 

With  regard  to  the  first  point,  it  is  obvious  that,  when 
anything  is  known,  it  must  stand  in  such  a  relation  to 
the  person  knowing  it  as  to  admit  of  its  being  known  by 
him.  Knowledge,  in  fact,  may  be  said  to  he  a  relation 
between  a  knower  and  a  thing  known.  It  is  evident, 
therefore,  that,  if  a  thing  is  to  be  known  at  all,  it  can 
only  be  by  forming  one  term  of  the  relation  that  consti- 
tutes knowledge.  To  try  to  know  an  object  that  cannot 
be   brought  into    relation   with    any  intelligent    being 


Conclusion. 


439 


would  be  the  nonsensical  game  of  trying  to  find  a  relative 
without  any  relations,  — a  parent  that  never  had  a  child, 
an  antecedent  that  has  no  consequent,  or,  to  use  one  of 
Ferrier's  homelj  vivid  images,  a  stick  with  only  one  end. 
It  may  be  added,  that,  when  a  thing  is  known,  it  must 
be  brought  into  relation  with  other  known  things ;  that 
is  to  say,  as  explained   fully  in  the   previous  pages,  a 
thing  becomes   an  object  of  knowledge  only  by  being 
identified  with,  and  differentiated  from,   other  objects. 
These  facts  may  be  summed  up  in  the  statement,  that  a 
thing  cannot  be  known  if  it  is  out  of  relation  to  all  other 
things;   and  it  is  these  facts  which  constitute  the  real 
meaning   of  the   often   misunderstood   doctrine  of  the 
Relativity  of  Knowledge.     Even,   therefore,   if  there 
could  he  anything  which  is  out  of  relation  to  everything 
else,  for  us  and  for   all  intelligent  beings  it  would  be 
nothing,  since  it  could  never  by  any  possibility  be  known. 
Having  determined  what  is  meant  by  knowing,  we 
must  now,  in  the  second  place,  define  what  the  object  is, 
about  which  it  is  disputed  whether  it  can  be  known  or 
not.     'Tii,  evident  that,  if  you  wish  to  approach  without 
prejudice  the  question,  whether  a  certain  object  is  know- 
able,  you  must  not  at  the  outset  define  it  in  terms  which 
preclude  the  possibility  of  its  being  known.     But  this  is 
what  we  find  perpetually  done  in   connection  with  the 
subject  we  are  at  present  discussing.     If  a  thing  is  to  be 
really  known,  we  are  told  it  must  be  known  as  it  is  in 
itself;  and  that  is  explained  to  mean,  as  it  is  when  taken 
away  from  relation    to  everything  else.     Now,  even  if 
there  could  be  any  reality  in  the  universe,  existing  out  of 
relation  to  every  other,  it  must  be  a  reality  about  which 
the  human  mind  can  well  afford  to  be  indifferent.     For 
no  intelligence,  indeed,  could  such  a  reality  possess  the 
CO.  iuiuresu     10    be  ot   interest   to  us,  an  object 


sli 


440 


Psychology, 


must  be  capable  of  influencing  us  for  good  or  evflj  and 
it  cannot  be  of  any  influence  without  coming  into  'som 
relation  with  us.    A  reality,  therefore,  which  is  defined 
to  be  out  of  relation  to  every  other,  has  no  bearing  on 
the    present  question.     For   such   a   reality  is   alre.uly 
defined  in  terms  which  render  it  unknowable ;  and  accord- 
ingly the  definition  implies  merely  that,  if  there  is  any- 
thing which  is  out  of  relation  with  everything  else,  it 
cannot  be  brought  into  relation  witb  a  knower,  and  can- 
not  therefore  be  known. 

But  the  definition  is  really  meaninglef  *.     So  far  as  we 
can  attach  any  meaning  to  the  language,  a  thing  is  what 
it  is  in  itself  bj  virtue  of  its  relations  to  other  things ,  its 
essential  nature,  its  real  force,  consists  in  its  reciprocity 
of   action  with  everything  else;  and,  apart  from  £   .ii 
reciprocal  relations,  it  is  nothing  at  all.     These  relations, 
of  course,  being  practically  infinite,  can  never  be  exhaus- 
tively known.    All  our  knowledge  is  therefore  partial; 
but  it  is  valid  as  far  as  it  goes.     It  is  a  knowledge  of 
reality,  because  it  is  a  knowledge  of  those  relations  — 
those  identities  and  differences  —  which  constitute  the 
real  nature  of  all  things. 


INDEX 


Abercrombfe,   Dr.,    187,   254,    255, 

263,  266,  270,  279,  280 
Addison,  129 
Affection,  370 
Afferent  nerves,  20 
Age,  lo 

Alimentary  sensations,  35,  40,  68 
Allen,   G.,   59,    132,  133,  230,   252, 

Anaesthesia,  252 
Anaxagoras,  43 
Anthropology,  13 
Antipathy,  375 
Anytus,  386 
Apparitions,  248 
Apprehension,  Simple,  211 
A  priori  and  a  posteriori,  284 
Aristotle,  34,  315,  322 
Architecture,  237 
Art,  234 

Articulate  sounds,  155 
Artman  and  Hall,  151 
Astrology,  8 
Attic  salt,  128 
Augustinianism,  428 

Bacon,  Lord,  35,  81,  41s 

Bailey's  Fesius^  330 

Bain,  Professor,  143,  2S8,  300    ^2^, 

„     372,  383.  395.  406 

Barbaros,  158 

Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  144 

Beauty,  234 

Bell,  Sir  Charles,  335 

Berkeley,  146,  166 

Biography,  6 

Blacklock,  187 

Blushing,  367 

lioerhaavel^  34 


Brace,  Julia,  135 

Bradley,  395 

Braid,  349 

Brewster,  177 

Bridgman,  L.,  49,  50,  141,  145,  206 

7 
Brillat-Savarin,  129,  131 
Brown,  Dr.  T.,  391 
Burke,  Edmund,  343,  346 
Burns,  132 
Butler,  Bishop,  378 
Byron,  Commodore,  384 
Byron,  Lord,  330,  390,  414 

Calvinism,  428 

Carlyle,  365 

Carpenter,  Dr.,  35,  145,  280 

Cerebrospinal  system,  19 

Chalmers,  Dr.,  277 

Cheselden's  patient,    165,    168,   169. 

187,  352,  353.  354,  355 
Cicero,  81,  382,  413 
Clang-tint,  54 
Coleridge,  265 
Colloids,  34 
Colours,  57 

Common  sense,  121,  286 
Composition,  240 
Concept,  211 
Conceptualism,  202 
Consciousness,  2 
Consonants,   155 
Contractility,  66 
Contrast,  86,  393 
Cowper,  329 
Crusades,  82 
Crystalloids,  34 

..    ._,,    ,_^j    gjjjj 

Curiosity,  397 


'H» 


Index. 


m 


\ 

4 


Cyrenafcs,  315 

n'"f' •  IV^'  ^^3'  3'S.  323 
iJante,  86 

I  'arwin.  335,  367 

Davy,  Sii  H.,  143 

I>ead  strain,  66 

L)ecluction,  223 

Demeter,  worship  of,  357 

Democritus,  45 

Descartes,  185 

Determinism,  428 

Dickens,  253 

Diiierot,  185 

Dionysus,  worship  of,  357 

Direct  remembrance,  77-78 

•  disposition,  11 

Donaldson,  H.  H.,  46,  70 

Drummond,  Agnes,  270 

Fcclesiastes,  351 
Eery^  40 1 
tflerent  nerves,  20 
Iilectricity,  73 
Electrobiology,  271 
Emotion,  312 
Empirical,  285 
Emulation,  yi(t 
Envy,  385 
Epicureanism,  423 
Epidermis,  41 
Erdmann,  116 
Euripides,  351 
Experience,  285 

Facial  sense,  141 

Fallacies,  248 

Familiarity,  99 

Fatigue,  72,  325 

Fear,  390 

Fechner,  28 

Ferguson,  Adam,  81,  317,  3S6. 

Fine  arts,  234 

Flaubert,  253 

Flavour,  35 

Fontenelle.  322 

Franz's  patient,  43,  166,  168,  169 

Galen,  34 
Geiger,  59 
Genius,  ii 


Giants,  134 

Gladstone,  59  < 

Goethe,  330 
Goldsmith,  327 
Gough,  43,  150 
Grace  at  meals,  128 
grax,  333 
Gregory,  Dr.,  262 
Grey,  Earl,  252 
Gurney,  281 

Habit,  10,  103-7 

Hall,  G.  S.,  46,  64,  280 

Haller,  34,  133 

Hallucinations,  248 

Hamilton,  Sir  W.,  34,  64,  78,  loa 
no,  121,  122,  146,  192,  194, 
197,  223,  227,   231,   233,   286. 

„     308,  324 

Harmony,  160-1 

Hauser,  Caspar,  135 

Hecker,  352 

Hegel,  261,  336 

Helmholtz,    SI,   60    61,    156.     168, 

174,  181,  250 
Herbart,  -j^ 
History,  7 

flobbes,  219.  377,  408 
Holmes,  O.  W.,  138,  266,  171 
Hoi^e,  390 

Howe,  Dr.,  136,  206 
Humboldt,  134 
Hume,  305,  322 
Huxley,  12,  253 
Hyperaesthesia,  251 

Idea,  227 
Ideal,  226-7 
Imagination,  230-1 
Indignation,  384 
Indirect  remembrance,  77 
Induction,  224 
Innate^  286 
Instinct,  104,  184 
Intoxication,  73 
Intuition,  284 

Invariable  association,  KM 
Itch,  47 


i 


Jealousy,  386 
loll    ifie 


index. 


443 


Johnson,  8a 
^ant,  u6,  227,  308 
Keats,  132 
Kitto,  49.  150.  152,  162,  186 

Lamson's  Life  of  L.  Bridgman,  49, 

50.  HS.  157,  206 
Langeiueile,  329 

Language,  Science  of,  6,  158 

Leckie,  278 

Lefthandedness,  44 

Leibnitio-Wolfian  School,  u6 

Leibnitz,  185 

Lenau,  330 

Leonardo  da  Vinci,  173 

Levy,  43,  141,  145 

Leyden,  279 

Libations,  128 

Linnaeus,  34 

Literature,  238 

Locke,  185,  203,  215,  304,  305 

Logic,  112,  210 

Longet,  131 

Lotze,  78,  116,  149 

Lubbock,  201,  384 

LunaticuSf  8 

Magnetism,  Animal,  271 

Mahafiy,  169 

Mansel,  308 

Mark's  Gospel,  164 

Marlowe,  330 

Massieu,  186 

Maudsley,   134,  136,  141,  186,  253, 
254.  25s 

M'Cosh,  303 

Meier,  116 

Melody,  159 

Memory,  99-loc,  297-9 
Mendelssohn,  Moses,  116 
Mesmer,  74,  271,  274 
Mill,  J.  S.,  97,  212,  213,  215,  217, 
221,  222,   288,   291,   292,   293, 
,,.,294,299,300,  315,317.  3»9 
Milton,  132,  137,  358 
Mtna,  I 

Mitchell,  James,  50,  135,  138 
Mnemonics,  80 
Modesty,  367 
Monotony,  39a 
'Moonstruck.  8 

08 


Motive,  409 

Mc^vement,  breadth,  form,  and  velo- 

city  of,  22 
Movement,  sensations  of,  66 
Moyes,  151,  185 
Miiller,  Maler,  330 
Mailer,  Max,  197 
Music,  158-163,  238,  348-350 

Natural  history  of  man,  6 

Naturel,    1 1 

Nausea,  36 

Negative  pleasures  and  pains,  333 

Neuralgia,  72 

Newton,  185 

Nightmare,  263 

Nominalism,  202-3 

Nomology,  210 

Nunneley,  i68 

Object,  1-2 
Odylism,  271 
Overtones,  55 

Painting,  237-8 

Palate,  33 

Paraesthesia,  25a 

Passion,  312 

Pastimes,  329 

Pearson,  143 

Perez,  168 

Personal  equation,  29 

Pliysiology,  11 

I'itch,  S3,   159 

I'lato,  34,  115,  257,  m 

Plot-interest,  401,  403 

Positive  pleasures  and  pains,  333 

Ptesciftd,  191 

Preyer,  167,  351,  352 

Psychology,  origin  of  the  name,    i; 

distinguished  from  Logic,  210 
Psychophysics,  24-8 
Puiseaux  Du,  186 
Pulmonary  sensations,  39,  67 
Pungent  sensations,  36,  41,  47 
Pure  cognitions,  285 

Quality  of  tones,  54,  159 
Quinctilian,  81 


444 


Index. 


Ramisti,  I 
Kealism,  20a 
Reason,  286 
Recollection,  91 
Refinement,  117 
Reichenbach,  Von,  74,  271 
Reid,  174,  267,  379 
Relativity,  88 
Relish,  36 
Remorse,  367 
Renan,  iq8 
Representation,  76 
Resemblance,  84,  393 
Resentment,  382 
Ridicule,  395 
Righthandedness,  44 
Romanes,  5 
Rousseau,  138 

Savour,  35 

Schelling,  236 

Schiller,  230    ' 

Scott,  323,  415 

Scottish  School,  121,  286 

Sculpture,  236 

Self-evidence,  218 

Sensation,  sense,  sensibility,  sensible, 

sensitive,  defined,  i8 
Sentiment,  312 
Sex,  10,  378-380 
Shakespeare,   33,    80,  84,    137,    174, 

180,    260,   268,   320,    322,    324, 

325,  326,  330,  364,  413,  414 
Shame,  307 
Simonides,  81 
Socrates,  314,  315,  386 
Somnambulism,  269-281 
Spalding,  184 
Spectres,  248 

Spectrum,  or  after-image,  250 
Spectrum,  or  rainbow,  57 
Spencer,  12,  43,  201,  219,  230,  288, 

300,  308,  315,  317 
Spmoza,  254,  360 
Spirit  of  the  age,  9 
St.  Vitus'  dance,  352 
Stewart,  D.,  50,  100,  135,  137,  14,, 

149,  i8S»  267,  270,  403 
Stoicism,  314,  423 
Striking  likeness,  93 
Study,  90*91 


I  Subject,  i.a 
Suggestibility,  93-100 
Suggestion,  76 
Suggestiveness,  90-93 
Sully,  253,  295 
Sympathetic  system,  19 
Sympathy,  372-5 

Taine,  253 

Tarantati,  35a 

Tedium,  329  ^ 

Teiresias,  149. 

Temp2rament,  ii 

Temperature,  sensations  of,  48,  70 

Tennyson,  40,  86,  96,  132,  180,  330, 

^      348.  361,  366,  368,  415 

Tetens,  116 

Theophrastus,  34 

Thomsort,  Dr.  W.,  215 

Thomson,  James,  377 

Thought-reading,  144 

Tickling,  47 

Timbre,  54 

Todd  and  Bowman,  145 

Tragedy,  321-5 

Transcendental y  284 

Trench,  382 

Truth,  228 

Tylor,  12,  20I,  207,  384 

Unconscious  cerebration,  107 
Understanding,  286 
Uniform  association,  loi 

Vanity,  369 
Virgil,  86,  276,  387 
Vowels,  156 


Wardrope's  pat)  :  t,  168,  353 

Warner,  335 

Weber,  28,  42,  146 

Weird,  401 

Welsch,  158 

Wheatstone,  173 

Wholes,  different  kinds  of,  232.3 

Wilson,  Dr.  D.,  44 

Wilson,  Dr.  G.,  344 

Wordsworth,    235,    236,    331,    363, 

413 
Wundt,    12,  6c,   64,    78,    116,    i6j 

168,    183,   253,   280,  316,  319, 

335 


Index, 


445 


Xenophon,  386 


I  Zeitgeist ^  9 
Zeao,  J07 


70 
».  330. 


363, 

162, 
319. 


